Don't Look Back
by myshipsank
Summary: Whether or not she admits it, Remy is taking a nosedive. A visit to an old friend forces her to examine her life and possibly start to make some changes. May not follow show's specific timeline. Cadley.
1. Hell's Beneath Me

**Don't look down**  
** Don't look around**  
** Don't look back**

** I looked everywhere**

** Down below I saw hell**  
** Around me I saw misery**  
** But behind me I saw my past**

** Guess which scared me the most?**

* * *

Remy tapped her fingers against the arm of the waiting room chair she was sitting in. The last place she really felt like being was exactly where she was, but it wasn't something that she could blow off. If she were to skip a single Monday, Adrianne would freak out and call her or end up at her house or something like that. So, instead, Remy stared at the wall, counting the number of flowers in the old crappy wallpaper. By the time she'd reached 281, she heard her name being called from a redheaded woman poking her head out of an office down the hall. With a deep breath for courage, Remy stood up and walked into the office, shutting the door behind her.

Once she was in the room, she sat down at her usual spot- a sofa, but not like the Freudian ones where you were supposed to lie down, like a real sofa with cushions and pillows. Across from her on a matching sofa was the redheaded woman who had called her name. She was about Remy's age and had brown eyes that always sparkled with the shine of knowing something special. She sat with her legs crossed and a pad of paper on her lap with intelligible scribbles on it.

"Adrianne," Remy greeted her therapist. The woman gave her a tight smile in return. "I kinda did something bad." Remy felt childish saying that, but she didn't exactly have the words to explain it otherwise. She knew she had to get right to the point, Adrianne wasn't one for small talk, but she didn't want to talk about what had happened much.

"Oh, really, is that what it's called these days?" Adrianne questioned blandly. Remy cringed. She hadn't expected Adrianne to know already.

"How did you find out?" Remy asked, the realization that someone must have called Adrianne hitting her.

"The hospital called," Adrianne answered simply. Remy's jaw clenched.

"Who was it? I haven't told anyone at the hospital that I even have a therapist, not to mention her name and number," Remy interrogated further. She was furious; she hated people getting into her personal life, and someone at work knowing about her therapist was the epitome of getting into her personal life.

"I can't-" Adrianne started.

"Tell me," Remy interrupted her.

"I really-" Adrianne tried again to dissuade her patient's assault.

"Tell me. If it was House, I swear to God-"

"It wasn't House. It was Cuddy," Adrianne gave in. Remy cursed under her breath, knowing full well that the redhead could hear her every word. "I told her to call me if there was ever anything like this." Adrianne remained calm despite Remy's evident rising temper. It was almost unnerving, but it was expected. Remy knew the ginger woman had a history of anger, and she'd kept it remarkably under control.

"Like this," Remy deadpanned. The two of them still had not even addressed the event that was causing this feud.

"If you ever tried to hurt yourself, I wanted to know," Adrianne explicated.

"I wasn't trying to hurt myself, I was trying to have a good time," Remy corrected. She remembered how she'd been feeling on Friday night- alone, depressed, and searching for something to fill that hole. She wasn't in search of pain. She knew House and her teammates all had their theories about what made Remy Hadley tick, but say what they will, she was not a masochist.

"Yeah, a _good time_. Taking that much Ecstasy, that's a good way to hurt yourself," Adrianne said, her voice still remaining calm despite her clear emphasis via sarcasm on her first sentence.

"_God_," Remy groaned. "Everything has to be so hard with you."

"Yes, because I'm your freaking therapist," Adrianne asserted. Remy remembered how Adrianne had picked up using the word freaking in college, shortly after the two of them had met. They had a couple classes together when Adrianne was throwing around the idea of becoming a medical doctor instead of getting a doctorate in psychiatry.

"Next time I'm almost dying I'll make sure to go to another hospital," Remy muttered.

She wasn't prepared for her therapist's reaction. The redhead uncrossed her legs and leaned forward so her face was closer to Remy's in the small office. "You know what? You can find another hospital. But I'll find you. And guess what? I'll call them and tell them to let me know. And no matter how far you try to run away from this, I will always be there, because I_ care,_" Adrianne said, her voice hard and the sparkle in her eyes blooming into fireworks.

Remy matched her stare with one of her own, knowing she was no match for this woman. If anyone could stare down Remy, it was Adrianne. Adrianne was half a Scotsman, as she used to like to say, and she'd gotten every bit of stubborn that came along with that. Remy went to her as a therapist because of that. That and the fact that she gave Remy a great discount and already knew about her past. There was no awkward introduction of, "Hi, I'm a self-destructive bitch that will bat for either team with mommy issues."

"Why do you have to _care_ so much?" Remy asked rhetorically. "You remind me of someone I work with."

"What's their name?" Adrianne inquired. And there, she was calm again. Remy knew better than to assume that meant the fiery woman had backed down, though. It just meant she'd made her point.

"Well, I don't really work with her. Not much, anyway. But her name's Cameron. I think her first name is Allison," Remy answered, not really sure where this new line of questioning was going. Maybe no where but away from their previous one, or maybe toward Kansas. Therapists could make any two topics connect in a matter of seconds it seemed. "She thinks every case is her personal responsibility to give a shit," Remy grumbled, elaborating on her colleague. She knew she wasn't being fair to Cameron in her description, but she wasn't exactly in the best of moods.

"Hm," Adrianne grunted in approval. "Sounds like my type of woman."

"Yeah, you two would get along great, caring the world to death," Remy said with false cheer. Adrianne gave her admonishing look, but she pretended not to notice.

"You know what, Remy? You know what's interesting about you? You pretend to look down on people who care- do you know why that is?" Adrianne said, tapping a pen against her chin.

Remy rolled her eyes. So this is where she'd been heading. "No, why don't you enlighten me?"

"You admire people who care, but you're too afraid to do it yourself. You're too afraid that if you openly care about people, they'll get attached to you. And if they get attached to you, they'll start relying on you. And once they start relying on you, you might disappoint them, and you're afraid of letting people down, just like your mom let-"

"Great. You've got me all figured out. And I get that, with you as my therapist and all, but I thought that maybe you'd care as a…" Remy trailed off. She bit her lip, silently hitting herself in her mind for what she'd been about to say. But it was no use- Adrianne already knew.

"Friend?" Adrianne filled in. "You can't even say that word out loud."

"Shut up, of course I can. Friend," Remy said in defiance.

"No, I mean for real. In a real context. You can't even call someone your friend, can you?"

Remy sighed. She knew that Adrianne had a real point, she always did, but she wasn't in the mood for it. So she switched topics. She started talking instead about her latest trials and tribulations with her coworkers, which turned into a conversation about Friday night and what had happened. Remy was dreading the conversation, but felt somewhat relieved to tell the tale, surprisingly.

It wasn't a complicated one. She'd been hanging out at her apartment all night on Friday, resisting the urge to go out to the local bar like she might have done on a usual night. At first she'd felt proud of herself for getting through the night without any of her usual vices- alcohol, drugs, and bringing strangers home. Around midnight she was just going to bed when she realized how stupid it was that she was patting herself on the back for having a night in doing nothing. She had nothing better to do than live the self-destructive life she had been leading, and that was the worst part of it all. She had no friends to call up to hang out with, no worthwhile hobbies to complete, and no real motivation to stay at home. She felt despicable, and so very lonely. And as a result, she'd broken into her bottle of Ecstasy that she kept on the second shelf of her medicine cabinet in a bottle that used to house Ibuprofen.

She hadn't counted how many pills she'd swallowed, but it was enough to send her into a giggling hazy mess, and enough that she ended up almost getting run over in the middle of the street outside her apartment. She had no idea how she'd gotten there or why the driver of the car that almost hit her was kind enough to call an ambulance when he noticed her heart rate. The ambulance ride and the subsequent first night of her stay at the hospital were pretty much a blur. She did remember seeing the blonde head of the ER when she was being wheeled in on a gurney. It was entirely possible that Cameron took her case, in fact, probably considering that Remy worked at the hospital. If Cameron saw her rushed in on an ambulance, knowing Cameron, she would probably have taken her case because of her tendency to care.

By the end of her story, her session was done and Adrianne was telling her she'd see her next Monday like usual. Remy thought about Cameron on her drive home. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that Cameron had been the doctor to treat her.

Remy had taken Monday off as a personal recovery day since she'd had a rough weekend, something that was approved by Cuddy, but she had to go into work the next day. There was something that she was dreading even more than telling Adrianne what had happened. Now she would have to face the team and their derogatory comments about her lifestyle. When she'd called Cuddy about taking the day off, Cuddy had been bad enough to deal with. She'd told Remy that she was essentially on probation and that if she didn't clean up her act she'd be forced to fire her.

Remy went to sleep early that night, feeling as though she'd need to be extra rested in order to deal with the unpleasant events of the next day.

* * *

**A/N: Please don't kill me for trying something un-fluffy. Believe it or not, angst is something that comes a lot more easily to me than fluffy emotions. This idea had been floating around my head since long before I finished "Playing the Game", and I really want to do well with it. So please let me know what you think! Feedback makes me better, so don't be afraid to be honest.**

**Oh, and the short poem at the beginning is something I wrote a couple years ago. Just as a side note.**


	2. Personal Roulette

**So now you live**

**With the safety off**

**The bullets fire without provocation**

**And the shooter isn't safe**

**Just because they bear a weapon**

* * *

When Remy got to work the next morning, she was met automatically with side glances and whispered comments, which was nothing she wasn't used to. After the incident with Spencer, Remy had gotten a very similar reaction where she'd become the topic of much of the hospital's gossip for about a week or so until the chatty nurses dug up something better on someone else. Ironically enough, it was Spencer's case that made Remy decide to dig up Adrianne's card after two years of not talking to the redheaded woman. The last time the two of them had talked, Adrianne had given her a card, informing her that if she ever needed to talk to someone who actually knew what they were saying that she would give her a great discount. Remy had scoffed at the offer and buried the card in a drawer at her apartment. She'd never bothered to call even to say hello.

That had been a few months ago, and now Adrianne had asserted herself firmly back into Remy's life as her therapist. That wasn't to say that Remy got better. She'd recognized that she really did have a problem, the first step so it was called, and she made a plan to deal with it. Rather, she made a plan to talk about her issues, but she made no changes to any other part of her life. Nope, the drugs, alcohol, and women were still her holy trinity of weekend enjoyment.

Remy opened the door of the diagnostics room to eight eyes staring right at her with varying degrees of judgment. She took in their assessment but didn't react, trying to rationalize that it was only natural that her colleagues had formed some sort of opinions on her actions without asking her about her side of things. It was human nature to judge a book by its cover. Why else do we dress up for interviews, or first dates, or court trials?

"Look, the Lesbian's alive!" House announced with bravado. Never did Remy think that she would be grateful for House's keen skill of being demeaning before. His words broke the invisible tension that hovered in the room like a plastic bag, suffocating her.

"Unfortunately, we _do_ have doctors who know how to save lives here," Remy said, setting her stuff down and taking a seat next to Kutner. He, out of everyone in the room, would judge her the least for what had happened on Friday night. He was usually a pretty happy-go-lucky guy willing to find the best in someone. She hoped that would apply to her as well.

"I save lives," House boasted. Taub rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you take one out of every twenty cases. I think we'll hear your name mentioned at the next conference in Stockholm," Taub said with sarcasm. House pretended to be moping while Foreman flipped open a file sitting on the table.

"Male, early thirties, complaining of back pain and nausea and abdominal pain, but the x-ray came up clear, as did the CT," Foreman started running the actual differential.

"Gastroenteritis. Come on, this isn't even a real case," Remy answered.

"You're right, it's not. He's got run of the mill stomach flu. Thirteen, go send this case back to Cameron and tell her to give me another easy one," House commanded.

Cameron. There was someone Remy really didn't want to see at the moment. "Why are we getting easy cases from the ER?" Remy asked.

"Because Cuddy said if I do seven cases this week she'll let me have HBO," House answered. And, of course, House would simply find the easiest cases down in the ER and take credit for them. How typical. Remy held out her hand for the file and received it, leaving the room without another word.

Before going down to the ER, Remy stopped in the bathroom. She didn't really feel the need to use it, but the relative privacy it provided was welcomed. She was tired of being a spectacle in some way, always forced into the spotlight when she was really the type of woman who liked to fade away to some degree, at least in the workplace. House always made a spectacle of everything and everyone, so it was almost comforting when he drew attention to her. It was normal. But when many of the nurses on every floor and even some of the doctors from other apartments started sending glances her way because of something they knew about her… well, that went against everything Remy strove for.

And now she would have to go down to see Cameron, who knew exactly what had happened and knew exactly how to actually care about the situation. Remy was really beginning to regret her decision to take Ecstasy that night, not that she would be telling Adrianne that any time soon.

With a sigh, Remy left the safety of the bathroom and continued the rest of the way down to the ER. When she arrived, she saw Cameron at the main desk handing out files to nurses and engaging them in conversation, pointing things out to them. She had a look of intense concentration on her face, not a smile, but also not a frown. It was somewhere in between. She should be stressed by the hectic surroundings, but instead it seemed to just bring out her determination. In that way, Remy assumed, she was perfect for the job as head of the ER.

When she realized that she'd been watching Cameron for a couple minutes, she shook her head slightly and made her way over to the blonde doctor. Cameron didn't notice Remy approaching, so she had to tap the older woman on the shoulder, which caused her to whirl around.

"What?" Cameron almost snapped. But then she saw who it was that had asked for her attention and her features softened for just a moment, her shoulders releasing tension. "Oh. Why don't we take this into my office?"

And with that Cameron set off toward her office, leaving Remy no choice but to follow. She wanted to stop her and just demand that they exchange files right there in the open, but Cameron was focused on her goal, and right now her goal was to get the two women into her office. Once they arrived, Cameron shut the door behind them.

"I brought you the file House had," Remy informed the other doctor. But Cameron seemed uninterested in the file that was extended toward her.

"I know that you're not one to really open up about things because I don't even know your first name. But I also know that Cuddy put you on probation and you should really talk to someone," Cameron said, her hard look of determination gone and replaced by her brow being slightly furrowed and her eyes large and caring.

Remy took a deep breath. Pity infuriated her because it implied that she was to be pitied, making her pitiful, and she was far from. "I already have a therapist, I don't need another one in you," she said with an eye roll. She had not wanted to disclose that she was visiting a therapist, but since Adrianne had already taken it upon herself to inform someone at the hospital, Remy figured it was only a matter of time until everyone knew.

"Oh, you do? That's- that's great," Cameron stuttered, seeming surprised. Remy tried hard not to smirk at how off-balance she'd made the other doctor. But Cameron cleared her throat and found her center of balance again. "But sometimes it's good to have someone who's not going to analyze everything you do. A friend, I mean," Cameron continued.

Well, that was not how Remy had expected this to go. If anything, she expected a lecture on how recreational drugs were a no-no. Cameron seemed to be that maternal type of person. Instead, she seemed to have temporarily completely skipped over the issue and extended a hand of friendship. It was weird. Plus, Cameron, friends with someone who took drugs? It sounded impossible.

"I have friends," Remy defended herself. She knew that wasn't exactly what Cameron was getting at, but it was better to deflect than to deal with what was really going on.

Cameron's brow furrowed deeper. "I didn't mean to imply you didn't. I'm sorry, this conversation is going all wrong," she apologized. Remy once again smothered a slight smile at the imbalance she'd created in the blonde woman.

Remy extended the file to Cameron and she took it. "House wants another easy case," Remy explained. Cameron nodded and turned around momentarily to dig through a small stack of files on her desk. Remy looked around the office as she waited for Cameron to finish picking one out, noticing a lack of personal photos. When she turned back, it was with case file in hand.

"Thanks," Remy muttered, taking the file and turning to leave. Cameron said nothing, and the internist was off to return to House.

On the way up to diagnostics, Remy decided to take a quick look at the file. When she opened it up, however, she was not drawn to the patient's history or symptoms but rather a post-it note that had been added, stuck to the first page of information on the patient. The note said, "If you change your mind about talking to a friend." Underneath of that was a phone number. Remy stopped along the side of the hallway such as not to get in anyone's way, staring at the post-it. Cameron must have scribbled it down when she was turned around looking for a new case file. After a few seconds of just staring at the ten words and ten numbers, Remy plucked the note off the file and crumpled it up, shoving it in her pocket, silently telling herself that she'd never use it. Also, it wasn't exactly like she wanted to leave it in there for House to see.

Upon getting back to the diagnostics room, Remy tossed the file on the table. Taub picked it up this time to look at it, and House was busy throwing his ball against the wall and catching it again.

"Liver failure? This one's more serious. Are you sure you asked Cameron for another easy case?" Taub questioned. Intrigued by that, Kutner grabbed the file from his colleague's hands.

"Wait, look at this part. The patient was diagnosed early with the same stomach flu as the patient before. It's going around this time of year. This patient was probably taking Acetaminophen for the pain because other painkillers cause upset stomachs," Kutner pointed out.

"Give Kutner a prize. Acetaminophen overdose it is. You know, making a diagnosis like that in under thirty seconds… you're starting to become more like me," House said, giving Kutner a meaningful nod.

"Really?" Kutner asked, his eyes widening in hope.

"No, of course not, you idiot," House scoffed, returning to his previous activities of bouncing the red ball off the walls.

"So that means it's not an overdose?" Kutner asked, now confused. Remy almost pitied him except for the fact that he knew exactly what he was getting into with this job since the entire game they'd gone through together just to get hired.

"Have some self-confidence, you woman!" House spat. "Yes, it's an overdose, you're an idiot for thinking you deserved praise for solving an easy case. Kutner, your turn to go get a new case," House explained. "Oh, and you two, go treat the two patients that we just talked about." Funny how insulting Kutner came first and patient care was an afterthought. Only the best at Princeton Plainsboro.

Remy walked out of the room to go pump the patient's stomach that had an overdose of Acetaminophen and Foreman walked out with her. "Hey, I wanted to talk to you about what happened on Friday," Foreman said as soon as the two of them were out of the room. Remy took a deep breath, preparing for the annoyance that was her colleague questioning her personal choices.

"I'm fine," Remy answered vaguely. Foreman gave her a disapproving look, one of the many reasons she didn't like people looking into her personal life.

"I don't think overdosing on Ecstasy is exactly what I would call _fine,_" Foreman responded in a bit of a scolding tone.

"If I want your opinion, I'll be sure to ask," Remy shot back. "I'll go pump the second patient's stomach. I suggest you treat the first patient." With that, Remy veered off to ask for some help from a couple of nurses.

* * *

The room was spinning. Remy tried to remember the past couple hours of her life, but the fact that her head seemed to be spinning around just as much as the room distracted her more. And the set of lips making their way down her neck. And since when was her ceiling yellow?

"You a'ight?" Remy heard a voice slur. She nodded and looked at the person those wandering lips were attached to. It was a young woman, probably about her same age, with black hair and green eyes. She was hot, Remy supposed. But why was the ceiling yellow? The thought came back.

"Mhmm," Remy mumbled in response. The other girl giggled at that and resumed her previous ministrations, her lips making it down her neck once more and to her chest, her barely-clothed chest.

Remy let the other woman take control of the situation, which wasn't something she usually did. But Remy was too drunk to care, too pleased to stay there unmoving, and the ceiling was yellow. Somehow, she knew that meant something. Something important. But it was too much work to care. To hold onto the moment. Why bother remembering what was happening? It seemed like all too much effort.

And Remy faded into the moment.

* * *

Sometime later, maybe a few hours, Remy woke up with a dead weight across her stomach. She had a pounding headache that immediately told her of her night's activities- she'd spent some time hiding behind a bottle. Her theory was confirmed when she pushed the deadweight off her stomach and realized it was an arm, an arm that was attached to a currently passed out woman. Remy looked down at herself and realized that she lacked in the clothing department.

With a groan of pain, Remy got up to find her jeans and shirt, shrugging them on and making sure she had everything in her pockets that she needed- wallet and phone, really. Once she'd done that, she took one last look at the apartment bedroom, noticing that it wasn't all too different from her own. With a shake of her throbbing head, Remy left the room after tugging on her shoes.

After leaving a few doorways, Remy found herself outside standing in front of a quiet street. She looked around to see that she hadn't driven to this unknown woman's house and that she honestly had no way of finding her way home. With a sigh, Remy flipped out her cell phone and stared at it, about to hit her speed dial for Adrianne's number. It wouldn't be the first time, but it wasn't something she did often. This was why she usually took women to her place, not the other way around.

With her finger hovering over the number two for speed dial, Remy paused. Ten digits floated into her head and she punched them into the phone instead. For a moment she had to stare at the numbers, trying to remember what they meant. When the memory resurfaced, she pressed the call button. After four rings, a sleepy voice picked up.

"Hello?" the tired women asked. Remy swallowed and rubbed her temple with her free hand. There was no going back from it now, no way she could just hang up or pretend this call never happened.

"Hey. I know it's probably really late and everything… but do you think you could pick me up?" Remy asked. The other side of the line stayed quiet for a moment and Remy started to regret punching in those ten numbers.

"You're drunk," the other woman replied. Remy held back her automatic snarky reply of "No shit, Sherlock" in favor of actually getting a ride home.

"Yeah. I… I can see a street sign for Sunset Avenue. I'm not too far from the hospital," Remy said instead.

"I'll put it into Google Maps, figure out where you are." Remy mumbled something that she was pretty sure sounded like "thanks" but that might have been her headache speaking. In fact, her headache started taking over, pressing on her skull. She started finding the pavement a lot closer to her face and lost her grip on the phone in her hand.

The last thing Remy remembered was that she hated the color yellow. Her own ceiling was white.

* * *

**A/N: This story takes place sometime during season 4, I think, which puts Cameron in the ER, Chase in the OR, and Foreman, Kutner, Taub, and Thirteen on House's team. I'm not promising that I won't play with other timeline things or relationships though. I promise there will be Cadley.**

**And I think I plan on putting a piece of related poetry (all written by me) at the beginning of each chapter.**

**So, anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Remy is not done her nosedive yet. Reviews will make me both happier and better, so please take a few seconds to do so. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Nothing To Lose

**I've got nothing to gain**  
**And even less to lose**  
**So I'll play the game**  
**Take a brush to my muse**

**Cliffs with roaring oceans below**  
**Volcanoes with sloshing lava above**  
**Into the water and fire I throw**  
**Everything I've ever loved**

* * *

"Wake up. Come on, wake up," came a voice, a familiar one at that. Remy struggled to open her eyes. She was losing the fight when she felt a hand slap her clear across the face. That made her eyes fly open.

"What the hell?" Remy exclaimed, her own hand shooting up to protect her face. She then took in the sight of Cameron hovering over her. She looked upset and tired, and unfortunately, Remy knew that both of those were because of her.

"You deserved that. I'll vent my anger later, but right now I need to get you in my car," Cameron huffed. Remy was shocked at the blonde woman's response, but obediently allowed herself to be helped to a somewhat standing position and leaned against the other woman in order to make their way into Cameron's car. Once Remy was positioned and fastened in place, Cameron closed the door and got in the driver's side, putting the car in gear.

"Thank you," Remy said quietly, feeling a wave of gratitude and guilt. She knew she was being a pain in the ass and that Cameron had absolutely zero obligation to answer her drunk pleading for a way home. Cameron said nothing, focusing on driving. After a minute of silence, Remy noticed something. "Um, my house is not really in this direction," the brunette pointed out.

"I know," Cameron replied with an exhale that sounded like she'd been holding her breath.

"Oh, alright then," Remy said, uncertain of what to say. Cameron continued driving, not attempting to make any sort of conversation. After another few minutes, Cameron was pulling into a parking lot in front of an apartment complex.

When she parked, Cameron closed her eyes, and for a moment, Remy thought she had fallen asleep right then and there. But her eyes flickered back open again. "You're staying at my place tonight so I know you won't get into any more trouble," Cameron said, staring at the steering wheel. Remy swallowed hard. She didn't really understand the logic behind that. Why would Cameron care if she got into any more trouble? It wasn't like she would have to help Remy out ever again. As far as the younger doctor was concerned, she'd just voided any chance of accepting the hand of friendship extended by the other woman with this phone call in the middle of the night.

Cameron got out of her side of the car and Remy followed suit, proving that she could walk well enough on her own despite her obvious inebriation and earlier passing out while on the phone. The two walked side by side into Cameron's apartment. Remy was honestly too unaware to really focus on taking in what it looked like, but it appeared clean and functional, which was enough for her.

"So do you want me to sleep on the couch?" Remy asked tentatively. She didn't really want to be here imposing on Cameron any more than she already had, but the question had to be asked.

Cameron shook her head. "Oh no, you're not going to sleep yet. First we're going to talk."

"You… you want to _talk_?" Remy repeated in disbelief.

"Yes, I believe that's what I offered you in the first place," Cameron said, crossing her arms. Remy never imagined that the kind and caring Doctor Cameron would be such a hardass.

"Okay, and I am really glad that you picked me up, but… you want to talk now? When I'm somewhere in the haze between drunk and hung over and at…" Remy paused to look at a clock on the wall. "Three in the morning?"

"Well, you inconvenienced me with that, I may as well do the same to you," Cameron responded. Remy was impressed- this woman had resolve. If she were anyone else in the world, she'd accuse them of having balls of steel. "Plus, this is the best time for me to get some answers out of you," Cameron added in a softer tone, one that let Remy know that this whole thing really wasn't about revenge.

So Remy sat on the couch and Cameron sat next to her. The two of them faced diagonally inward toward each other, sort of half facing front and half facing each other. Remy didn't really know where to start, but Cameron was staying quiet, so she figured it was up to her.

"First of all, I should apologize again for bringing you into my shit," Remy started cautiously. She was vaguely reminded of her first session with Adrianne. Like now, she had been totally lost as to how to open up conversation about herself. It wasn't something that came naturally to her, and it felt as foreign as waking up to a different ceiling had. "I guess you've figured out by now that I went out to get drunk and ended up at a woman's place that I didn't know." Well, maybe Cameron hadn't known it was a woman's place, but if she'd heard any hospital gossip, she knew that Remy was bisexual.

Cameron's face was hard to read, probably because Remy hadn't had much opportunity to study it yet. Their interactions had been few and short until this point. Remy liked to study people, their reactions, their facial expressions, their body language. Adrianne said that habit came from too much time observing something that she should be involved in- human interaction.

"I'm not interested in what you did, really. I'd rather hear you talk about why you did it," Cameron said. Her ankles were crossed, linked together, and her arms were no longer crossed, making her appearance more open. Remy tried to relax and pretend like it was any session with Adrianne listening, and with her head still spinning a little and pounding a little less, she started explaining.

"I screwed up. Not tonight, well, tonight too, but that's not what I'm trying to say. I mean on Friday. I took too much. I shouldn't have taken any at all but… I was trying to have a night without any self-destruction, and I realized that it was so pointless to even do that. I have no friends except my therapist, no worthwhile hobbies to waste my free time on, and nothing to stay sober for," Remy spoke slowly, trying to put her reasoning into words. As she spoke, she watched Cameron's change in posture. Her head was propped against the back of the couch with her hand, and her head was tilted, displaying clear interest. She was paying close attention, and the scrutiny reminded her of what she was supposed to be saying next.

"And then at work everyone was looking at me, judging me for what I'd done. I didn't want their pity, so tonight I went out to erase that feeling. I wanted someone to look at me and have no idea who I was, just to see me as who I am at first glance," Remy confessed, her voice faster now. She had rarely been this honest with Adrianne. Maybe she should show up drunk to her next Monday appointment.

At last, it was Cameron's turn to say something. "Why don't you want people to get to know you?" It was a legitimate question based on what Remy had just said, but it wasn't one that she was ready to dive into.

"Wasn't that enough talking for one night? I can leave if you want me to," Remy replied. Maybe Cameron noticed Remy closing up again, or maybe she was tired as well, but either way, she nodded and got up from the couch.

"See you in the morning," the blonde said before padding off down the hall and shutting her bedroom door behind her.

Remy laid back against Cameron's sofa with a groan. She noticed a blanket folded up on the arm rest of the couch, so she pulled it over herself and shut her eyes, but sleep evaded her. Her own thoughts were running in circles around her head. Maybe that's what was making her so dizzy.

When Remy looked up at the ceiling, she noticed with a small amount of satisfaction that it was white, like her own. The memory of falling asleep and waking up to a yellow ceiling floated into her mind and she cursed herself for allowing that to happen. Yellow meant someone else's place. Yellow meant foreign. But, more importantly, yellow was the color of death. Remy remembered seeing her mother's complexion worsen in her final days, the days when even speech and movement were too much for her. Skin that had once looked much like her own yellowed like pages out of an ancient book or a dated newspaper, one that no one would bother reading from anymore, just like how life didn't bother to stop by her mom. But death did, and it brought that yellow color onto her skin. Since she was eight years old, Remy hated the color yellow.

She curled her fingers around the edge of the blanket, wishing that she could think of something else. Surprising to some, it wasn't memories of her cruel dead mother that drove her to drink or down pills. Maybe that was what screwed her up in the first place, but it wasn't why she felt the need to kill any chances of real connection or her sobriety. That was more so her own doing, not her mother's.

Her hands moved to underneath the blanket, trying to find a comfortable position. She rolled onto her side and then onto her back again, fidgeting. Her hands ended up flat on her thighs, curling up again, her nails digging into the skin there. She knew if she didn't release pressure it would leave marks, possibly even draw blood, but she didn't care. The slight pain cause the fog in her head to lift and her head to stop spinning. She dug in further, relishing in having something to keep her grounded.

Several minutes later, her hands finally releasing the skin on her legs when consciousness fled from her.

* * *

The next morning, Remy awoke to the smell of coffee. It was a wondrous smell, one that caused her to open her eyes and stir from her relatively comfortable position on the couch. The sight she was greeted with made her adopt a light smile- Cameron was up, had a pot of coffee on, and had her reading glasses on to inspect the morning paper. It was an odd domestic look at Cameron's life, and Remy stayed there as an observer for a short while, wondering if this was what it was like when Chase was sleeping with Cameron. She'd heard that bit of gossip while working House's clinic hours. Actually, she was pretty sure she'd heard their relationship was still ongoing.

"How long are you going to lie on the couch?" Cameron asked without looking up from the paper. Remy grinned at her.

"As long as possible if it's up to me. I had a late night last night," Remy said, stating the obvious. Cameron put down the newspaper and looked up. Remy gave in and got up, kicking the blanket off her feet. She made her way over to the coffee machine to check on it, but her hands were swatted away with a rolled up newspaper.

"No coffee for you until you shower and get dressed," Cameron scolded.

"Hey! Do I really smell that bad?" Remy asked, mostly joking. But really, she had no idea.

"You smell like bourbon and sex," Cameron said, wrinkling her nose up in disgust. At that, Remy had to smirk.

"Wow, you're dead on. Is that a combination that you're familiar with?" Remy teased. Cameron rolled her eyes and unrolled her newspaper, continuing her examination of the travel section. "Fine, I'll get in the shower, but unless you want me walking around her in nothing but a towel…" Remy trailed off, enjoying the surprised blush on Cameron's face. It was too easy to say something that made the blonde ER doctor uncomfortable.

"I left some of my clothes in the bathroom that I thought would fit you," Cameron answered, not looking up. Either the travel section was really interesting or Cameron was afraid her blush would be more visible if she looked Remy in the eyes.

Remy walked out of the kitchen toward the bathroom. Now that her head was more clear, she had the chance to take in Cameron's apartment. It was pretty nice- the front door opened up into the living room, which was open and adjacent to the kitchen. A hallway led back to the bathroom and a bedroom. Though there weren't very many rooms, each one was spacious and decorated nicely.

She entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She saw some clothes stacked on the counter- a simple pair of dress pants and a white collared shirt. The clothes were generic, but they looked like they would fit well enough.

Remy stripped down and examined her reflection in the mirror after turning on the shower and waiting for it to warm up. Her face looked relatively alright- some dark circles from her total of about three and a half hours of sleep she'd accomplished- but besides that she was fine. She reached a hand into the shower and then stepped in it, satisfied with the temperature.

Remy hissed as the hot water hit her thighs. She looked down and saw ten angry red marks staring back at her from the night before. At least the blood had coagulated so she wasn't bleeding in Cameron's shower. Remy tried to just focus on getting clean so she could get out of there and cover up the little reminders of her own regret with some pants. Just to be safe, she examined the marks closer to realize that her nails had done quiet a number on her skin. She must have dug in a lot deeper than she remembered.

Once she was adequately cleaned up, Remy turned off the shower and grabbed a towel off the back of the bathroom door to dry off. She then retrieved her underwear from the day before- not her first choice, but it was better than asking to borrow some from Cameron- and then clothes Cameron had set out. After getting dressed, Remy looked at herself in the mirror and decided that she should also add the suspenders that she'd been wearing the day before. Satisfied, Remy exited the bathroom holding the remainder of her clothes and walked into the kitchen.

Cameron was standing there holding two mugs of coffee. She held one out to the brunette, who took it gladly. "You know, I never thought I'd see that outfit with suspenders," Cameron commented with one eyebrow raised. She took her previous seat at her kitchen table.

"They make the outfit," Remy said with a shrug. She took a long sip of the coffee, relishing the taste.

"I have to be in by nine, so we'll leave at quarter to nine, okay?" Cameron informed her. Remy nodded, looking at the clock to see that it was only eight fifteen, giving them half an hour until then. Remy looked at the kitchen table, thinking for a moment that it was lonely that it had four chairs even though only one person lived there. She picked the one opposite Cameron and sat down as well.

And the next five minutes Remy spent listening to the clock tick by as Allison flipped to the business section of the paper. Remy hated the awkward silence, so she made to fill it.

"Thank you again for getting me last night. I know you gave me your number as someone to talk to and I kinda abused that," Remy said sincerely. Cameron set her paper down once more, this time removing her reading glasses as well, which was a shame. Remy liked her in glasses.

"I was furious, I'll admit that. I thought that after your weekend you'd start to realize it. I thought after getting put on probation from Cuddy you'd realize. I thought after you started seeing a therapist you'd realize it. But then I get a call in the middle of the night, which didn't bother me, by the way, but what did is that you were drunk, alone, and lost, screwing yourself up again," Cameron vented. She'd promised that the night before, so hearing it wasn't a big shocker, but it wasn't fun either. Cameron took a deep breath to calm herself.

Remy took the break as a chance to inquire, "Realize what?"

"That you're throwing your life away!" The calming breathing Cameron had just been practicing blew up in her face at the question and its related answer.

"Why do you care? I thought you had a whole ER full of hurting people to use your hero complex on," Remy shot back. It was her defense mechanism- sarcasm or pure spite. The latter seemed fitting in this situation.

To her surprise, Cameron did not explode back on how she'd taken Remy in, made her coffee, allowed her to borrow clothes, and that she was being a petulant child. She didn't even comment on the wholeheartedly demeaning sentiment Remy had just expelled from her mouth. She looked past that and actually answered the question.

"Because you remind me of everything that I avoided when my husband died," Cameron answered honestly. It was said calmly, free of the anger Remy had been half-hoping to evoke. Remy had been aiming to provoke the blonde into an argument, not get back to opening up like she had started to do last night. Honesty hurt.

"Wh-what?" Remy stuttered. She was caught so off guard that she couldn't even control her words.

Cameron took another one of those deep cleansing breaths. "When Daniel, my husband, died, I wanted to go out to the nearest bar, and drown myself in alcohol. I wanted to find someone who maybe looked a little like him if I got drunk enough and take him home for the night. I wanted to raid the cabinets of all the drugs he'd been taking for the pain in the final days and take them all. I wanted to self destruct. But my mind kept telling me that I'm Allison Cameron and I was too smart for that. Too good. So I threw myself into my class work, because I was in grad school at the time. I made a bunch of friends, but all we talked about was school, work, and the weather," Cameron answered. Remy could read the painful story all over the other woman's face. She had been there, she had lived in close quarters with death, and if the two of them had put their lives running parallel to each others, they would have each taken a ninety degree turn in the opposite direction from one another following the disastrous turns their lives took.

Remy wanted to reach out to comfort her, but she knew from experience that there was nothing she could do to erase her pain, just like she hadn't been able to erase her own.

"How the hell did we end up so different?" Remy whispered, knowing there was no good answer. She wanted to ask a million other questions- there were so many- but that was the prominent one that wouldn't leave her alone.

"I don't know," Cameron answered. She was honest, so brutally honest in these past several hours. The honesty hurt, but Remy needed it.

The two women looked at each other, lost over what to do with the information they'd both learned about each other.

* * *

**A/N: I would love to have a beta. If any of you are interested or know someone who would be, please leave a review or send me a pm.**

**I hope you are enjoying this, please leave me a review to let me know. Any comments, questions, criticisms, etc are awesome. Like, they make me smile. And I haven't been able to leave me house for two weeks until today. Smiling is a nice change. Oh, and happy 4th of July!**


	4. Fear in Death

**Can you ever forgive me?**  
**For all of their lives**  
**Surrounding me with blank stares**  
**Reminding me of my sins**  
**Innocence forsaken**  
**They tell me it was war**  
**But blood is blood**  
**And death is never forgotten**  
**Hades curse the man who,**  
**In pride,**  
**Claims he has no fear of death**

* * *

The two women arrived early due to a general lack of traffic, so Cameron decided to let Remy go in a couple minutes ahead of her so that just in case House was hanging around, he wouldn't see them entering together. Remy didn't know why Cameron really cared, especially since it wasn't like she exactly had to deal with House often, but she agreed to the plan. It would save a little bit of harassment from her boss at least. So, Remy exited Cameron's car and went into work.

Remy walked up to the diagnostics room and was greeted by the sight of House doodling on the white board.

"Oh goody, you're here. I have a special quiz for you," House greeted her eagerly. That wasn't a good sign.

"I wouldn't even answer if I were you," Taub warned. Remy shrugged; she'd answer depending on the question, but the warning was good-natured.

"What color… are Cuddy's panties today?" House asked dramatically. Remy rolled her eyes. She should have expected something like that. Luckily, she had just the answer for him.

"That's a trick question. She's not wearing any underwear today," Remy replied blandly. She watched House's smirk grow.

"Yes she is," House denied her answer. "Nice try though."

"Not when I last saw her," Remy sighed. It was a bluff, really, but it was enough to intrigue House. She watched as his smile slipped ever so slightly. He stood up without another word and left, presumably to inform Cuddy that she was late for her yearly rectal examination or some bullshit like that. He just wanted her to stand up so he could get a look at her ass.

Once House was gone, that left Foreman, Taub, Kutner, and Remy in the room.

"Is Cuddy really not wearing any underwear?" Kutner asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Remy shrugged, deciding to keep the gag going.

"A girl never tells," she whispered. Taub snorted, but Foreman looked unamused. Then again, Foreman always looked unamused. Remy wondered if he was born without the capacity for showing human emotion or if he'd admired Spock growing up.

* * *

Approximately five minutes later, House returned with a look of disbelief on his face. "Tell me, oh wise one, how did you do it?" he asked, bowing to Remy as he walked in the room.

"Do what?" Taub asked.

"This morning Cuddy was definitely wearing a red thong, but I just checked, and she was commando," House informed the team. Remy suppressed her surprise, letting her face adapt to one of smug achievement instead. So her bluff had panned out- who would have thought?

"So, back to my question. How did you…?" House trailed off, making motions with his hands.

Remy leaned forward toward House. "I used my special powers," she said conspiratorially.

"Are these… bisexual powers?" House asked, partially in awe.

"Granted by Lady Gaga," Remy responded seriously with a nod. Kutner laughed openly and Taub snorted, while Foreman blinked. That was probably him laughing on the inside. House retained his look of awe for the next thirty seconds.

"Did you tell her this morning to take off her panties?" House investigated, his awe turning to suspicion.

"Yes, House, because all women rip their clothes off at my command," Remy deadpanned. "Plus, how would I have known you were going to ask me that ridiculous question when I got in?"

House had no reasonable answer to that and a case file in hand, most likely given to him by an angered Cuddy in punishment, so Remy snatched that from his hand and started reading up on the patient.

* * *

By the time the day was done and the patient had received a temporary diagnosis of having an enlarged prostate that caused his kidneys to fail, Remy was tired. She started packing up her things in the locker room when she remembered that she had no car. Cameron had driven her into work and her own car was at the bar's parking lot most likely.

Remy groaned and banged her head on her locker, resigning herself to searching in the ER for Cameron. She didn't want to have to walk in there again, but she did. The ER was the worst place in the hospital for the odd glances that would be sent her way because several of the nurses had been on call on Friday night when she'd come in. They'd seen firsthand what Remy Hadley looked like when her life was bouncing off of rock bottom. Remy wondered for a moment what went through their heads. Was it judgment of her character? Pity? Curiosity? Statistics would probably be in favor of option D, all of the above.

But, mixed up in the bustle of what looked to be a crowd of car accident victims, was Cameron. Cameron did not look at her in pity or judging her character. There was plenty of curiosity, granted, but not negative. Well, not completely negative. The way Cameron was curious about Remy almost reminded her of how House was curious- he had a puzzle in front of him that he had to solve, no matter the cost, or else he would feel incomplete. The difference between the two was that Cameron also wanted to fix the problem whereas House's game was over when he had his answers.

And there Remy went observing people again. She couldn't help it. For example, she now watched as Cameron was in her true element- chaos, but organizing chaos. Saving lives chaos. She winced at the memory of calling Cameron's job in the ER as a way to feed her hero complex. It was a low blow, especially since her own reasons for being a doctor were not too much different. She wanted to find answers to complex medical cases because she couldn't find any answers about her own life that made sense.

The only answers that made any sense were at the bottom of the next glass of alcohol.

"Hey, Cameron," Remy walked up to the blonde ER attendant. Cameron looked up at her and her expression changed minutely. Her hard stare cracked open, allowing Remy to see the human underneath the doctor.

"Hey. Is there any way this could wait?" Cameron asked. She kept glancing over at a teenage boy's chart in Cameron's hand. He had intracranial bleeding. Remy had the heartless instinctive thought that he wouldn't make it another hour.

"Yeah, sure. Can I help out until then?" Remy asked. Cameron cocked her head to the side a little, confused. "I don't have my car with me and I was wondering if you could drive me after work. In exchange for me helping you clear some of this up, of course."

Cameron nodded, understanding. "Can I leave you with him? He hasn't been conscious yet, and his parents are stuck in the traffic caused by the accident he was in. They might not be in for another half an hour or more. All we know is that he's sixteen and his name's Gerard Drumheller," Cameron said, gesturing to the kid with intracranial bleeding.

"Sure. You go take care of someone else," Remy said. Because that's what Cameron did- she took care of people. Cameron took off, already focused on her next goal. Remy stared down at the chart that Cameron had passed off to her, cruelly thinking it to be a waste of paper. She was immediately ashamed of the thought, but there really wasn't much she could do for him.

She went over to sit in a chair next to his hospital bed. Remy stared at the kid for a little while, taken by just how young and vulnerable he looked there in his slightly crumpled form on the bed. He was much too young to die. Remy knew she had a deadly disease that would kill her, but she had at least a few years, possibly a decade left. This boy had an hour if he was lucky.

Not knowing what else to do, Remy started talking. No one was paying her any attention any more with the bustle of the accident keeping the nurses busy. She drew the paper curtains shut anyway.

"You've got intracranial bleeding, causing an enormous amount of pressure to build up in your head. Soon it's going to turn into a brain herniation and you'll die," Remy informed Gerard's unconscious body. She felt a little ridiculous, both for talking to someone who couldn't even process words and for telling him his prognosis.

She switched tracks. "You're too young to die. You didn't do anything to deserve this, didn't bring it upon yourself. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes death is so… random," Remy spoke in a low voice, the kind she used to use when she had a cat. It was a soothing tone. She didn't know what she was saying, but the words started pouting out of her.

"People all die for different reasons. Some people put themselves in danger, some people die because of random events, and some people are just born with something that will kill them. The last one's me, by the way. I was born with Huntington's, and that's going to kill me in a few years just because my parents happened to have the genetics that coded me that way."

She paused, unsure of where to go next. "I thought if I became a doctor I'd be able to understand why death is so random at times. I thought I'd be able to understand death. Thinking about that now… well, I realize how stupid that is. We're not supposed to understand death, we're supposed to accept it."

Remy brushed some of his hair away from his paling face, trying to make him look presentable. "I hope your parents get here in time. It's almost ironic that the very crash that's killing their son is also the reason they can't get here to be with him in his last moments."

She thought some more, the minutes ticking by, slipping away like sand through open hands. "If they don't get here, I'll pretend I'm your family. No one should have to die alone," she said quietly. It was pointless, she knew. No one would be in on the game of pretend but her and a dying boy who couldn't even hear her. Remy wondered briefly why Cameron had given her this file. Maybe it was because she knew she was needed elsewhere. Or maybe she knew Remy would have an emotional connection with him. There you go, that was one for Adrianne- she'd finally made a connection and it was with a boy who wouldn't last more than an hour.

* * *

When Cameron finally finished up, Remy was more than ready to leave. The two women walked out to Cameron's car in contemplative quiet. Neither of them had had exactly pleasant ends to their day, both witnessing so much pain and heartbreak with the accident. A total of twelve people were involved in the crash, and more than one had ended up as casualties.

Cameron started the car before either of them spoke. "Could you take me to a bar?" Remy asked. Cameron's neck snapped to the brunette woman accompanied by a look of disbelief mixed with disappointment.

Remy held up her hands in surrender. "Hey, not because I want a drink, though trust me, I need one. My car is still there," Remy explained.

"In that case, sure. But you're not even setting one foot inside that bar. You're heading straight from my car, across the parking lot, and into your own car," Cameron instructed.

"Yes ma'am," Remy replied sarcastically. Cameron ignored her tone and started driving, relying on Remy's instructions.

When they arrived at the bar, Remy opened Cameron's car door and stepped out partially, dangling her keys up for Cameron to see. "I'm not going in, I promise."

"Good," Cameron replied with a light smile, knowing Remy was playing with her. "Because I'd have to follow you in there and ruin any chances of you taking anyone home with you."

Remy mock gasped at her. "Why, Doctor Cameron, you are such a cockblock."

Cameron shook her head, still smiling. "Well, you do make that difficult. After all, cockblocking only stops half my worries," Cameron teased. Remy scowled at the other woman playfully before stepping completely out of the car.

"Thank you… again," Remy said seriously. "I feel like I keep saying that around you recently."

"Well, I don't mind hearing it," Cameron said with a shrug. Remy laughed and shut the door, walking to her own car. She watched Cameron drive off in her rearview mirror and shoved her key in the ignition.

She drove off, keeping her promise to not set one foot in that bar. She normally would have kept the sentiment by just visiting another bar, but she felt bound to keep the promise to its sentiment, not just the specifics. Cameron had that sort of part innocent part honest nature about her that made Remy want to stay a good person, even if it was only for one night.

After all, this would probably mark the end of Remy's outside of work relationship with Allison Cameron.

She let out a breath and headed home, all the while thinking about her day and everything it had brought to mind.

* * *

In the end, Remy was wrong. Gerard Drumheller had lived two hours.

* * *

**A/N: I know that was a sort of depressing note to end on, but it's actually hopeful if you think about it. He lived twice his predicted life expectancy.**

**The poem at the beginning was originally entitle All of Them (PTSD). It was obviously written for a different purpose, but I thought it applied to this chapter as well.**

**Anyway, please review and let me know what you think! Without reviews I become lazy, haha.**


	5. My Head's Up High

**Keep your head up high**  
**And your eyes down low**  
**Because no one knows why**  
**I seem to know**  
**All you dirty little secrets**  
**Turned to selfish little regrets**

**Keep your shoulders back**  
**Act like you're so proud**  
**Because your soul's still black**  
**And I know how**  
**All your dirty little secrets**  
**Turned to selfish little regrets**

* * *

For the rest of the week, not much happened of note. Remy drove into work in the morning, helped solve cases for House, and ate lunch with Cameron. When she was done work, she'd drive home. She had not been out to a bar since Cameron had picked her up the last time and she hadn't touched any of her stash of pills. She felt compelled to uphold her one day promise to the blonde woman for the rest of the week as a silent payment of thanks. To Remy's great surprise, Cameron had continued talking to her despite their friendship starting out roughly. By the time Saturday rolled around, Remy felt confident that this weekend would be better than the last.

Upon waking up late on Saturday morning, Remy lounged around her apartment for a little while, trying to think of what to do for the day. She remembered Gerard from earlier in the week, how she'd talked to him soothingly while she waited for his parents to get there. It had taken them an hour, but they'd made it and had just under an hour to say goodbye. He never woke up to share in their tears, but grief was for the living anyway.

Thinking of Gerard brought another thought to her mind. She'd enjoyed talking to him, unloading to someone who couldn't respond or judge her, a silent companion. Her mind also drifted to how she'd talked to the boy like she'd talked to her cat.

It was then that she decided she should go to the SPCA. She'd gotten a cat two years ago. His name was Smokey and he was a gray tabby. But she'd gotten Smokey from the shelter when he was already on death's doorstep at 17 years old, and he'd died in the past year. Having a car would allow her to have something to look after, something to do, and maybe give her a little responsibility. Plus, it was great to have a cat curl up on your lap in winter.

Remy grabbed her coat and keys and was about to leave when she paused. She could call Cameron and ask if the other woman wanted to help her pick out a cat. Cameron seemed like the type that would like animals. Confirming her decision, Remy flipped open her phone and dialled Cameron's number.

"Hello?" Cameron answered the phone.

"Hey. I was wondering if you're free at all today," Remy inquired. She bit her lip, hoping Cameron was able to go.

"Yeah, sure. Chase is away with some friends this weekend, actually. What's your plan?" Cameron replied. So there it was, confirmation that the rumors were true- Cameron was dating House's former favorite ass-kissing Aussie. Remy hadn't worked with Chase very often, but she'd heard about his tendency to suck up. The nurses in the OR talked about him a lot.

"I was going to go to the SPCA to pick out a cat. I thought maybe you could help," Remy said. There was a slight pause on the other line. Remy's mind fired rapidly, wondering if she'd crossed a boundary by asking this, or if the idea was boring, or if Cameron was really more of a dog person.

"Yeah, sure, I'd love to," Cameron replied. Remy let out the breath she didn't remember holding since she'd invited her.

"Great. I can pick you if you tell me where you live," Remy continued. Cameron told her, and the two hung up. With a smile growing on her face, Remy walked out her door to her car.

* * *

"This one's cute," Cameron said, reaching her fingers through the cage to pet a ginger cat. Remy came over to look the one she was playing with.

"He is," Remy agreed. She stuck her hand up against the cage, waiting to see if the cat would respond to her. He did, gently sniffing her fingers before walking to the back of the cage. "But I don't think he likes me."

The two wandered around the cat room of the SPCA, looking for the perfect companion for Remy. She felt indecisive, making her rounds and visiting every cat at least twice. Finally, Cameron called her over once again, this time to a small black and white cat. He didn't look to be full grown yet.

Remy wiggled her fingers past the bars on the cage and the cat inside immediately investigated the intrusion into his little home, sniffing intensely before rubbing his head against the brunette's fingers.

"I think you picked a winner here," Remy said to Cameron. She glanced over to the tag on the side of the cat's cage, reading his information. He was nine months old, had been neutered, and was named Oreo temporarily by the staff. He'd been brought in as a lost cat, so they'd given him all the necessary vaccines.

"I want him. But we're not calling him Oreo," Remy said, realizing after she spoke that she'd used the word "we." There was no we. Just because Cameron was helping her pick out the cat did not mean she had anything invested in the little guy. It did not make them a we. She hoped Cameron didn't notice.

"Good. Oreos are for eating, and unless you're up for embracing some Chinese culture, we're not eating the cat," Cameron replied. Remy scratched the cat's cheek as he purred.

"Don't listen to her, you're not dinner," Remy cooed.

The two of them found someone who worked at the shelter and Remy filled out all the paperwork needed to adopt the cat. She promised to bring him back in three days for a check up and to call if anything was going wrong. The worked asked if Cameron wanted her name on the adoption forms as well, which was a bit of an awkward moment, but Remy assured the worker that Cameron was just there to help pick out her new pet.

The cat was put in a carrier and Remy carried him happily out to her car. Cameron put the carrier on her lap as Remy drove.

"What are you going to name him?" Cameron asked, opening up the carrier door slightly to squeeze her hand in and pet the purring animal.

Remy thought about it and glanced over at the cat while stopped at a red light. "Jacques," she decided.

"Why?"

"Because he has two black spots on his face- one on each side of his now- and it gives him a little French moustache," Remy responded with a shrug. Cameron laughed and continued soothing a mewling Jacques for the rest of the car ride.

* * *

The two women stopped at a pet store on their way back to Remy's house to pick up some necessary supplies- a litter box, a food and water dish, a bag of food. They also picked out a blue collar. Cameron said it complimented his eyes. Jacques seemed to appreciate the compliment because he leaned into her hand as she pet him.

Remy took the carrier from Cameron as soon as she parked outside her apartment. Cameron grabbed the litter box and a few more of the supplies to bring in. As soon as Remy walked in her door, she set the carrier down on the floor and opened the little door.

"Welcome home, Jacques," Remy said in the low voice she'd used to talk to Smokey and Gerard. The black and white cat started prancing around the place, exploring it. Cameron put the litter box on the ground and Jacques took note, investigating that as well.

Remy smiled at her new companion and felt overwhelmed by a feeling she hadn't had in a long time- simple satisfaction with her day. She turned to Cameron to embrace her in a hug. If it hadn't been for her, Remy would probably have used her Saturday to fill her body with toxins both legal and illegal, instead filling it with a new pet and a day with a friend.

_Oh my God…_ Remy thought to herself, _I have a friend._She smothered a smirk; wait until Adrianne heard that one.

Cameron leaned into the hug, wrapping her arms around Remy's waist. Remy took a moment to wonder why she didn't hug people more often. It was a wonderful feeling. It was warm and soft and comfortable… but she pulled away, not wanting to make the situation uncomfortable.

"What was that for?" Cameron asked with a soft smile.

"For helping me pick out a new family member," Remy replied. The two of them looked over to see that Jacques was swatting around a cotton ball. He must have invaded a trash can or the bathroom.

* * *

By the time Monday came around, Remy was buzzing with excitement. When Adrianne called her name, Remy jumped up to enter the room. She sat down on the couch opposite the redhead and smiled.

"God, Remy, did you just get laid?" Adrianne asked. Remy's smile turned to confusion.

"What?" Remy questioned. Adrianne waved a hand in front of her face.

"Never mind, It's just that last week you came in telling me you'd made the naughty list by downing some Ecstasy- and I swear you almost cried in that session- and this week you float in here on a cloud and grace me with a smile," Adrianne commented.

"I did not even come close to crying," Remy denied.

"Just a little tear?" Adrianne pressed. Remy crossed her arms. "Corner of the eye?" Remy blinked. "Okay, fine. None of what I just did was even close to professional, but to hell with protocols. I rarely follow them anyway, especially not with a patient I'd known for, what, eight years?"

"Yeah, about that," Remy agreed. "A lot has happened," she said with her smile returning. Adrianne opened her arms in front of her.

"As much as I'd love to skip straight to the good stuff, why don't you tell me what it was like going to work on Tuesday?" Adrianne suggested.

"Well, that day sorta sucked. Everyone was looking at me, whispering my name," Remy started. Adrianne nodded.

"You must have felt judged, especially considering some of them were there that night," Adrianne added. Now it was Remy's turn to nod.

"But… well, my boss acted normal, which means that he harassed me, but no more than any other person on any other day. Well, I've told you how House is. Foreman was pushy, trying to get me to tell him what was wrong and scolding me like I'm a child. Taub and Kutner were alright, nothing really new there," Remy explained. "But then I had to go down to the ER to get a case file from Cameron, and-"

"Wait, is this the same Cameron as you talked about last time? The one who cares too much?" Adrianne interrupted.

"Yeah, that's the one. I really didn't want to talk to her because she was one of my doctors from Friday and I knew she'd want to have a 'talk' or something. But she just offered to talk to me as a friend if I ever needed it and gave me her phone number," Remy continued. She paused, remembering the next part hazily.

Adrianne studied the brunette. "Go on, I know you didn't have a perfect week, so spill it." There was another of the many reasons Remy could stand going to a therapist- Adrianne knew people weren't perfect and didn't suddenly become better.

"I went out that night," Remy admitted. Adrianne did not let any judgment show on her face. Remy did not feel scolded, so she went on. "I was a mess. I even went home with a girl, didn't take her to my place. I left my car at the bar, and when I woke up at quarter to three in the morning, I had no way home and didn't even know where I was," Remy stopped to swallow and take a deep breath. Adrianne waited, knowing there was more.

"I called Cameron. It was stupid and really rude, especially considering she'd meant to talk and I was asking her to find me and pick me up. She did, though. And, God Adrianne, you would have loved it, she sat me down on her couch and made me talk before I was allowed to go to sleep. I told her why I did what I'd done on Friday and explained how I'd felt with everyone watching me on Tuesday. She listened, and she didn't reject what I said."

Adrianne moved her left leg to cross over the other one. "You opened up," she summarized succinctly. "And did it hurt?"

"Yes," Remy answered bluntly. She left out the part where she'd dug her nails into her own skin so hard that she'd bled in ten places, but her answer was true not just on a physical level. The two sat in silence for a heavy pause. They'd gotten somewhere, somewhere further than every week before, and Remy wasn't sure what to do now. Adrianne did not make the first move, so Remy decided it must be up to her.

Just like her life now.

So she told the redhead about the rest of her week, how she'd ate lunch with Cameron and talked to her more frequently. She felt her smile grow once more when she mentioned how the two of them had gone to the shelter to get Jacques and then brought him home.

"We picked a great one, too. He's so affectionate," Remy said, feeling as though she was coming to a close of her week.

"What's interesting in that, to me, is that you not only opened your home to a pet, which I think is great for you by the way, but you asked someone to do it with you," Adrianne pointed out. Remy had thought of that herself, but she was too afraid to think of what it might mean. "Tell me, is she a brunette?"

"Wh-what?" Remy stuttered. What the hell could Cameron's hair color have to do with her getting a cat?

"Oh, interesting," Adrianne mused. Remy glared at her.

"You're going all shrink on me," Remy complained.

"Sorry. She's blonde, isn't she? I thought you didn't like blondes," Adrianne said. Remy stared at her therapist without comprehending.

"I took her to the SPCA, not my bedroom," Remy scoffed.

"Yes, I know. Your time is just about up, Remy, and Pauly is in after you today. He's got OCD and his sessions have to happen precisely at 8:01," Adrianne said.

Remy stood up to leave the room. "Oh, and by the way…" Adrianne looked up at her. "Cameron's my friend." Adrianne's face split into a grin at the admission and Remy left the room for the awaiting patient.

* * *

**A/N: So first of all, I want to thank Yanto. Wilde (for some reason it keeps making me put a space in that name, sorry) for betaing this chapter! I also wanted to say that this chapter was a sort of relief after the last bout of depressing I wrote for you. Things are starting to look up for Remy, but it's not going to stay this easy.**

**The poem at the beginning is a bit of a look into the future, if you will. Or you can just take it as something pretty at the beginning of the chapter. However much you want to look into it is up to you!**

**Reviews make me happy.**


	6. Seeking a Life

**Took my chance as it flew by**  
**Nothing I could do, your smile wry**  
**Can't help but ask for more**  
**When you're standing there with your allure**  
**Standing, not moving in a world this fast**  
**Yet I know this immobility will last**  
**Was I wrong to seek what you give?**  
**Wrong to seek a life to live?**

* * *

The week flew by, dumping Remy into another Friday afternoon faster than ever. She felt busier now, with Jacques to take care of and a friend to keep up with. She had to remember to feed and clean up after him. The cat that was, not her friend. Cameron was usually pretty clean.

She'd gotten closer with Cameron, sometimes calling her on the phone just to talk. Cameron would ask how she was, and Remy would answer honestly. She'd never had a situation like that outside of therapy, and it was nice to get some confirmation that some people weren't only out for their own self-interest, despite what House would tell her.

Remy was doing some clinic hours for House when she glanced at the clock and realized it was time for her lunch. She and Allison usually ate together around one, so Remy finished up her last patient and headed down to the cafeteria. She quickly scanned the room for Cameron and found her in seconds. Remy started to make her way over to the table when Cameron was joined by another blonde doctor- Chase.

She froze and walked in the opposite direction, suddenly feeling as though she would be more hungry around two.

* * *

"Our patient is a woman in her mid-forties with sudden onset blindness along with headaches. Go," House informed the team. It was a little late in the day, and the week, to be getting a new case, but House was always one to keep people on their toes.

"Brain aneurysm," Remy threw out.

"Nope, the headaches aren't in the right spot," Foreman shot her down. "Brain tumor?" he countered.

"Optic neuritis fits better," Kutner threw in. "A lot more symptoms would be showing if she had a tumor."

"Do a brain scan to rule out a tumor and draw some blood to test for white cell count," House commanded. "And Thirteen, go ask for a consult with Cameron."

Remy gave House a look. "Why?" she challenged. And if he said something along the lines of "because I want you two to hook up in the closet on the second floor" she would kill him.

"Because optic neuritis could be caused by an autoimmune disease," House answered. Remy silently cursed House for thinking of an actually legitimate reason for calling in a consult with Cameron. The head of the ER was, after all, an immunologist.

Foreman, Kutner, and Taub went to the patient to give him a scan and a blood test while Remy headed in the other direction to go down to the ER. Once she got there, she asked a nurse at the front desk where Cameron was. The nurse pointed down the hall to Cameron's office, so Remy followed her direction and opened the door enough to poke her head in.

"Got a minute?" Remy asked. Cameron looked up from a chart she'd been writing.

"Yeah, sure. Hey, I'm sorry about lunch today. Chase wanted-"

"It's fine. I get it. House wanted me to bring you in for a consult. We think a patient has optic neuritis, and the cause could be autoimmune," Remy cut her off. She didn't need an explanation; Cameron was allowed to eat with whoever she pleased. Besides, Chase was Cameron's boyfriend. It was a wonder they hadn't been eating together before.

Cameron didn't look satisfied. "I didn't even warn you ahead of time. Can you let me explain?"

Remy swallowed. She really didn't want to hear about anything to do with Chase. It wasn't like she'd really even had a conversation with the man that lasted longer than two minutes. But she shrugged, opening the floor for the blonde to speak.

"Chase has been trying to further our relationship. Take it to the next level. I felt bad always shooting him down, so I agreed to have lunch with him. It was kinda out of guilt, which probably isn't a good thing, but that's why. And this happened at 12:30, so I didn't have enough time to find you to cancel," Cameron explained.

Remy didn't know why she was being so open and honest about this. Remy didn't deserve an explanation at all; she wasn't the clingy type of person who got jealous over one day's lunch. Not when they were just her friend. Hell, not even if she was sleeping with them. Though, the second one was probably because she usually only slept with someone one time.

"Okay," she responded. "How's that going?" Because she didn't know what else to ask and didn't want to seem rude by changing the topic when this was clearly an important part of Cameron's life.

Cameron's expression was strained. "I don't know. I mean, we had always had a sort of casual relationship, one without a lot of… time commitments. I just don't know if I can stand being around him that often to be totally honest," Cameron opened up.

Remy thought about that. She'd always pictured Cameron as the type to dream of white picket fences and kids and a stable, almost all-consuming relationship, but it appeared that picture was colored in wrong. Maybe Cameron did want some of that, but not with Chase. Or maybe just not yet with Chase. How would she know? It really wasn't any of her business to care.

"Why don't we continue this conversation over dinner tonight?" Remy offered. She'd missed out on lunch, so she figured dinner wouldn't be too bad of a replacement. She tried to make it sound as little as possible like a come on. "After all, I really _did_ come down for a consult," she added to make her intentions clear.

Cameron gave her a small smile. "That sounds great. Now, why don't you tell me about your patient?"

For the next five minutes, the two doctors talked about the patient and Cameron gave her input. She figured that it might be MS behind the optic neuritis, so they should run a test for that as soon as a brain tumor was ruled out. Remy went back up to House with the consult information ready to share and some Cameron information to process.

* * *

"Negative for brain tumor," Foreman stated almost regretfully.

"Wow, I've never heard someone so sad about someone _not_ having cancer," House said. He then put a hand over his mouth to false whisper to Foreman, "Foreman, I think your inner bitch is showing." An eye roll was received.

"Cameron said that if it was optic neuritis it might be MS causing it," Remy conveyed the information from the consult. House nodded.

"Kutner, go schedule her for an LP. Remy, take her in for an eye exam to check if her symptoms are progressing. Taub, you're up for clinic hours. And you, Large Dark One, should come into my office," House commanded. His little ducklings scattered off as they were told.

As Remy was grabbing some of her patient charts to compare against for the eye exam, she overheard part of House's conversation with Foreman since they left the door open to the office.

"You still are treating me like I'm any other doctor on your team, with no respect," Foreman accused.

"And you're still acting like a whiny little bitch. See what I did there? Earlier I joked about you being bitchy, but now I'm serious. I thought you'd catch on sooner," House quipped. Remy packed up as fast as she could, not wanting to hear any more of their pissing contest.

* * *

"Hey, my name is Doctor Hadley and I'll just be running a few routine checks on your eyes," Remy introduced herself to the patient. The woman gave her a halfhearted smile vaguely in her direction.

"My name's Theresa, but I guess you already know that," the woman introduced in turn. Remy helped her out of her hospital bed and into a wheelchair, starting to wheel her down to an exam room with examination equipment.

"You know, I never really realized how much I like to see," Theresa said suddenly before they got to the room.

"You don't know what you have until you lose it, I guess," Remy responded. It seemed like the right thing to say. She couldn't imagine losing her eyesight, even for a day.

The tests were almost no different from the previous ones run when Theresa had been admitted to the hospital. As Remy was wheeling her back to her room, Theresa starting humming lightly.

"What are you humming?" Remy asked.

"Oh, I didn't even realize I was humming. It's an old song my mom would sing to me. I can't remember half the words, just the tune, but it's something to hold onto," Theresa replied. Remy wondered if her mom was dead by the way she spoke. She wondered if she'd gone through hell before dying. Maybe cancer. Maybe dementia. You never know what shit people have to live through.

Remy continued pushing the woman, listening as she resumed her humming. In the middle of a verse, she cut off. "Losing my eyesight makes me think about all the other things I lost. Opportunities. There was this guy a few years back, great guy, but he was a friend, and that's how he saw me. He ended up married just a year ago. I wonder what would have happened if I had chased after him before he met that other woman," Theresa said out of the blue.

It wasn't altogether odd. Patients often had a sort of fatalistic need to relive memories while they were in the hospital. It wasn't the first time a patient opened up unnecessarily to Remy before.

Remy said nothing, helping Theresa back into her bed. Once she was situated, Remy started to back away, but the woman grabbed the brunette doctor's arm. She stared right at her, accurately approximating where her face would be though she was blind.

"You'll remember that, right? Don't be afraid to chase," Theresa said, her face intense, like she needed to know Remy understood.

"Sure I will," Remy assured her. Remy had never been one afraid to chase a good night's fun before, be it a man or a woman. But she had a feeling that wasn't what this woman was talking about. She was talking about relationships, real ones, ones where you woke up next to your lover day after day instead of leaving before they woke up, never to see them again.

Remy didn't bother giving Theresa a fake smile before she left. Blind people were perfect for her- they couldn't see her forlorn expression as she contemplated her own life and choices.

* * *

Remy picked up Cameron at eight for dinner. She'd picked out an Italian place that wasn't too far away, and not too long after, the two of them were seated across from one another talking and waiting for their food to come.

"So, you were telling me about you and Chase," Remy prompted. It wasn't a topic she wanted to be on. She had a strange distaste for the Aussie man, never getting quite the right impression from him. But, as she had gone over in her head before, it was important to Cameron, so as her friend, Remy should listen.

"Yes. Well, I started sort of dating him about a year ago. But, like I said before it has been pretty casual," Cameron restated.

"How casual?" Remy asked out of curiosity. Cameron had a faint blush to her face.

"The relationship sort of started because I got high on meth and slept with him. The relationship hasn't changed much since then," Cameron explained. Remy raised her eyebrows at that. "Er, the meth part changed. I mean, I don't do meth anymore. Actually, I only did it once." Remy found that the rambling explanation was endearing rather than annoying.

"And now he wants you two to be more than just sex?" Remy inquired. She wondered if this was a normal thing for two women to talk about at a dinner. The last time she remembered being out with friends was just after college, and then they'd talked about fairly similar things, but also how to get a job and the like.

"Pretty much," Cameron said.

"And you're not sure?" Remy guessed.

"Not at all. I never really was interested in a real relationship with him, but I don't want to lost what we do have because it works for both of us. And we are friends, too. I just can't get a good feel for this," Cameron said, her head sliding into her hands, elbows propped on the table.

Just then the waiter appeared with their food. He set it down on the table, both the women thanked him, and he left. Remy took that time to think of a good response.

"Well, maybe you should go on a date with him, something sort of like this, and just try to relax as much as you can and see how it feels. If it's natural," Remy suggested.

Cameron nodded slowly, like she was processing and agreeing simultaneously. Her nodding finished and she bit her lip. "I don't know if I can handle the one-on-one date right away. Maybe I should…" Cameron's facial expression turned brighter with an epiphany. "I should make it a double date! You could come with me and bring someone."

The brunette shook her head resolutely. She hadn't been on a date not designed to get into someone's pants in ages. She also had no one that she would even want to take on a date.

Cameron's face turned into a pleading one. "Oh, please Remy?" she pouted.

"That's unfair, for two reasons. One, your face is too cute, and two, since when did you call me Remy?" It was an odd fact- the women were still on a last name basis. Cameron called her Doctor Hadley or Thirteen, and she called the blonde Cameron. Remy had no idea how to move past that barrier, yet another sign of her lack of knowledge in the friendship area.

"Why not? You can call me Allison if it makes you feel better," Cameron said with a shrug. She then remembered than she was supposed to be begging and started pouting again.

Remy absorbed the sight and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, I'll go."

Cameron gave Remy the biggest smile and grabbed her hand, which had previously been aiming for her fork, in excitement. "Alright! That will make it less awkward, plus you can tell me what you think of Chase," Cameron said.

They talked for the rest of dinner about plans for the double date, Cameron's relationship, and Jacques. Work was not mentioned once. Remy's problems with drugs and alcohol were left unsaid. Remy let herself believe, in that small moment of time, that this was who she was- a friend to Allison Cameron and a normal woman who did not have any self-destructive tendencies. The kind of person who went on double dates and planned dinners. The kind of person that she had never even thought she would have the chance to be.

* * *

The one thing that wasn't brought up at dinner the night before was who Remy was going to bring as her date. She thought about this as she ate some pancakes late Saturday morning. She didn't have anyone in her romantic life, that much was easy to tell, and she didn't have any other friends besides Cameron that she could invite to even pose as a date. The only people she interacted with on any sort of regular basis was the one bartender, Frank, and her co-workers.

Frank was an automatic no because though he knew how to point out available men or women to Remy, that was as far as their relationship went. She'd tip him for his services, and that was about it. And co-workers… well, Taub was married for starters. She considered calling Foreman for about a total of a half a second before reminding herself that he was a dick about the self-destructive thing. Plus, he got along well with Chase and that would make Remy the only one at dinner who didn't Awkward fourth wheel, if such a thing really existed. There was Kutner, and she actually thought about that for a solid minute before concluding that he would read into the whole thing too much, which would lead to a strain on their working relationship.

Remy stabbed a piece of her pancake with a little more force than necessary and shoved it in her mouth, chewing contemplatively. She'd promised to go to dinner tonight, and looking at the clock, she had about seven hours to find a date. She felt like it was the senior prom all over again- scrambling around for a date.

She could always hire a hooker, pretend to have a date. But that one everyone would see through. Remy let her head fall down and bang against the table at even considering hiring a hooker for a dinner date.

Remy flipped open her phone and started to scroll through her contacts when she stopped and scrolled right up to the top again. Duh. The first name in her phone book.

Remy dialed the number and waited four rings for the other line to pick up.

"Please tell me you're not drunk this early," was the answer.

"Yes, because that's the only reason I'd be calling you. I wouldn't happen to want to, oh, I don't know, reschedule an appointment or anything," Remy snarked. Her therapist could be downright obnoxious sometimes.

"You're too saracastic to be drunk," Adrianne observed.

"That's insulting. I never lost my sarcasm as long as I'm conscious. Plus, how many times have you seen me drunk?" Remy regretted asking when she heard the reply.

"Before or after college?" Adrianne asked.

"Why? You have separate tally sheets? Does it have the date and what I blew on the breathalyzer too?"

"No, but it does have who you blew," Adrianne corrected. Remy rolled her eyes, knowing the other woman couldn't see it but also musing that she might know the action was taking place anyhow.

"Oh ha, ha. Very funny. But seriously, I am calling about an appointment," the internist said into her phone, placing her dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

"Really? You need to change yours?" Adrianne inquired with some surprise. Remy had been so consistent with her appointments- 7:00 on every Monday night.

"No. I… kinda got myself into a situation. I agreed to go on a double date tonight, and I'm dateless," Remy admitted through gritted teeth. She was never dateless. She usually didn't have a problem finding someone who was attracted to her. But this was not a situation like that.

"As much as I'm flattered, I'm sure you're asking me as your friend. But I thought you got yourself a brand new friend," Adrianne pointed out.

"She's the person who talked me into this. She'd bringing her boyfriend," Remy explained.

"Oh, I'm definitely in then. A chance to see Remy Hadley interacting with a friend? Who knows when I'll ever get the chance to get that sort of experience ever again!" Adrianne exclaimed gleefully. Remy groaned into the phone, tempted to hang up. Unfortunately, she knew Adrianne was her only option, and even more unfortunately, the therapist knew that as well. So, she made full use of this opportunity to mock her patient within reasonable limits.

"Great. I'll pick you up at six," Remy said blandly. Her new friend, her friend's boyfriend that she didn't like already, and her therapist. What could go wrong with that?

* * *

**A/N: Oh, I am excited for this. Like, really. I've been a little nervous using an OC this much in a story, since that's something I've never done before, but hopefully Adrianne is fitting in well enough. And as a side note, Jacques is based on my cat, who is also black and white with the****mustache described, but his name isn't Jacques. And thanks again to YantoWilde for betaing.**

**The next chapter of "Fireworks", my Once Upon a Time fanfiction, should be up shortly. Also, I should be putting up a Lost Girl fic withing the next week or so. Keep coming back!**

**Comments? Please. They help.**


	7. Captivated

**Your eyes are captivating**  
**Your smile is rehabilitating**  
**My captor, you are also my cure**  
**My tormentor, I want to be yours**  
**Swirling colors draw me in**  
**Is it possible for love to be sin?**  
**Because if so, then mine is**

* * *

As Remy was driving to dinner with Adrianne in the passenger seat of her car, she started going over a few essential details.

"Okay, first rule, you are not allowed to shrink any heads tonight," Remy stated, holding up her index finger to symbolize the first of a few points. Adrianne laughed at how serious the brunette was being.

"What if I'm really subtle about it?" Adrianne asked. Remy gritted her teeth, knowing that this was probably just to annoy her.

"Fine. Next rule- you are not to tell them any of my deepest, darkest, innermost thoughts that I have shared with you in our sessions," Remy continued, now adding another finger to the hand that was counting while resting against the steering wheel.

"Like I could. Hell, even I haven't been able to get to those thoughts yet. Do you really need to give me rules? I know how to behave on a night on the town," Adrianne sighed. Remy turned into the parking lot of the restaurant Allison had picked. Whoa, she'd never actually called her Allison before. It sounded odd, even in her head.

Parking, Remy added yet another finger. Adrianne waited for the next rule to come out of the doctor's mouth, but Remy was preoccupied. She'd spied Allison getting out of her car with Chase across the parking lot. Remy quickly opened the door and exited, leaving Adrianne to wonder what the last rule was going to be.

The two women walked over to Chase and Cameron and met paths at the door to the restaurant. It was a little noisy, but the four of them exchanged quick hellos before being seated by the hostess. Remy noticed that Chase looked at Adrianne funny. He was probably surprised that Remy had brought a woman as her date. Remy smirked, enjoying that she'd managed to make the blonde man possibly uncomfortable already.

Once they were seated- Chase and Cameron on one side of the booth and Remy and Adrianne on the other- and had ordered their drinks, Chase and Cameron looked expectantly at Remy.

"Oh, right, this is Adrianne. She's my…" Remy trailed off, stopping herself from saying therapist.

"Date. I do think that's why we're here," Adrianne teased lightly. Remy held back any sort of a glare she wanted to give the other woman because she had sort of just saved her ass.

"So how long have you two known each other?" Cameron asked. Remy perceived no judgment from Cameron, unlike Chase.

"We met in college, actually," Remy answered.

"She was the same back then- ambitious, wild, and sexy as hell," Adrianne commented with a wink. Remy laughed off the flirting but shot her redheaded friend an I'll-kill-you-later glance.

"And Adrianne, what do you do for a living?" Chase asked.

"I'm a doctor. I guess I fit right into this crowd," Adrianne answered. Remy was thankful that she didn't say what kind of doctor. She had a feeling that Cameron might start to put together the pieces if she announced she was a therapist.

The waiter came back with their drinks and took their orders. After everyone going around and placing their order, it came time for conversation again.

The beginning was easy- each doctor explained their specialty. Adrianne passed off her profession as a psychologist, which was true, but left out the fact that she currently had a job as a therapist. Chase, Cameron, and Remy all talked about PPTH and what they did there, mostly for Chase and Adrianne's benefit.

It wasn't falling apart yet. No one was shouting, no one was dying, and best of all, no one was awkward. The food came, and for a short while, that was the new topic of conversation.

"So, Remy, are you recovering well?" Chase asked. Remy's eyes flicked up from her meal to meet Chase's gaze with fear. Why would he ask that? Why? Of all the things he could possible bring up, he had to bring up the night she had spent in the ER, the night she started grazing rock bottom.

Her fork clattered to the table, but no one seemed focused on that. Cameron was desperately trying to give her boyfriend a look to stop talking, but he missed it. He had already looked down to take a bite of his steak. Adrianne stayed silent, clearly no longer in the mood to save her brunette friend.

"I'm… fine," Remy choked out. Chase nodded into his plate as if he hadn't really been listening in the first place.

"That's good. I heard that you came into the emergency room with something, but I also heard you were released shortly after. I never heard what you were in for," Chase said conversationally. Another- large- bite of steak. He ate like a pig. Remy had the burning desire to draw Cameron away from the table to inform her that she disapproved of Chase. She restrained herself.

"Yes. I had an… accident. You know, after a few drinks. Just a little slip-up, everything's fine now," Remy said with a distinct chill in her tone. Adrianne must have picked up on it because the woman cleared her throat and took a sip from her glass of ice water, looking from the ice cubes and back to Remy's eyes meaningfully. Damn Adrianne and her ability to communicate nonverbally.

"Well, I guess that will be a no on a glass of wine after tonight's dinner," Chase joked. Remy watched Cameron practically splutter. Again, Chase was in ignorant bliss, having moved on to his side of mashed potatoes. Some of it got on his chin.

Cameron finally shifted under the table and Chase took a sudden and sharp intake of breath. Remy smirked, realizing that Cameron had just stepped on Chase's foot to get his attention.

"Right, no gallows humor," Chase said, which Remy supposed was some sort of a sad excuse for an apology.

"Unless you want to end up in the gallows yourself. Remy's a feisty one," Adrianne put in her two cents. Remy mock-glared at her, but Cameron laughed. Feeling left out, Chase feigned a smile.

"That she is. I swear, she has more in common with Jacques than most of her colleagues," Cameron added. Chase looked a little lost, presumable not knowing who Jacques was.

"And yet you love little Jacques," Remy teased Cameron.

It probably wasn't the best thing to say, but it seemed to go over without a hitch. Maybe it was just that everyone was relieved that the awkward tension had been dispelled that they weren't going to judge what had gotten them out of it.

The three women got along well. And Adrianne got along with everyone if she wanted to, even Chase. She had a way of saying things that people weren't expecting, but when they heard it, it sounded just right.

"And so House- you've all worked for him, and I hear he's quite the asshole," Adrianne said at one point.

Cameron laughed. "That he is. You know, the things he says are often rude, sexist, racist, demeaning, and antagonizing, but buried in all that is the truth usually."

Chase looked affronted by this. "What? That's putting him in the best possible light."

"If that's him in the best light, I'd hate to hear your point of view," Adrianne said with a light laugh. Remy's mutters of hating to hear his point of view on anything were lost completely.

"You know, he makes us do his clinic hours, just because he's too lazy. Except I haven't had to do them in a while," Remy commented with a wicked grin.

"How'd you manage that?" Chase asked, affronted.

"A middle aged man came in knowing about House already from an article online or something. Imagine his surprise when he realized House was a woman. That lead to a conversation on how I'd realized my innermost desires pointed me toward a sex change because I was secretly gay. At least I could draw on a tiny part of that being true- I'm not gay, but as House would say himself, I'm 'close enough.' So, since then, I haven't had to do any clinic hours," Remy explained.

Cameron and Adrianne laughed, and even Chase had to smile. It was a fairly entertaining story.

The dinner went on, and Remy found her eyes trained so often on the blonde woman across from her. Something was changing.

* * *

**A week and two days later**

"Friends are stupid," Remy blurted out.

"I see… are you attacking the concept of friendship, or are you upset with one particular thing about your new friend?" Adrianne asked calmly.

"Both," Remy grumbled.

"Well, the second part of that means you're seeing that no relationship can be perfect, which is normal, and the first part is just you being childish in reaction to that," Adrianne assessed.

"Well, I never did get a childhood," Remy muttered.

"Yes, so you've embraced your teenage rebellion at the age of 27, yes, and you're mixing it with the maturity of a toddler," Adrianne said, her voice bordering on harsh. "Cut the bullshit, Remy. Last week you were raving about this new friend of yours, bursting with pride about your new cat, and this week you've retreated back into yourself."

"Nobody makes a 180 that fast," Remy said angrily.

"I know." Those two words spoke volumes more. Adrianne wasn't criticizing Remy for having a failure, she was trying to convince her that it wasn't a failure at all. Not being perfect did not constitute failing.

"I manage to ruin my one friendship, because since I clearly can't have purely friend-like feelings for someone. I have to make it all complicated and have romantic feelings for them," the brunette muttered.

"Cameron's your type. I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on her in that restaurant parking lot. Actually, I knew it when you first brought her up in a session."

"Shut up, you did not," Remy discounted her therapist's opinion.

"Shut up, I'm the expert," Adrianne countered. She was met with a challenging glare and a lethal eyebrow raise.

"_You're_ the expert on my romantic interests?" Remy said slowly. Adrianne crossed her arms over her chest in a somewhat defensive position.

"Seriously, Remy? I went to college with you. I watched the kind of girl you would pick up, hell, I even helped you once or twice. She's obviously intelligent judging by her job, she's quite pretty, she's got a bit of your sense of humor, and she cares about you. What more of a reason do you need to start falling for someone?"

The truth hurt like getting zapped in the heart with a lightning bolt.

"I can't do this, you don't understand. I screwed up, Adrianne. I screwed up bad this time," Remy said, feeling her body starting to shake. Adrianne broke protocol, leaning over to put a hand on Remy's knee.

"You've screwed up so many times before," the ginger informed her patient quietly. Remy shot her an incredulous glare. "What? It's true. You know me, I'm not going to be your pillow to cry on here. I'm going to tell you how it is because that's why you keep coming back here."

Remy stared at the other woman, watching her world fall apart. If there was an earthquake at that moment, surely it would match the emotional images in her mind- everything cracking and pulling apart, coming undone at the seams. But Adrianne refused to crack, her image staying in one piece, the one solid thing left.

"Save me," Remy muttered. She had never begged for help before, never asked for a lifeline when she was lost at sea. But now she did, and it hurt like hell. It hurt her pride, and that was one thing she'd hoped to maintain.

And Remy cried.

* * *

**A/N: First and foremost, I am soooo sorry for the long delay. I have no excuse. Well, I have no _good _excuse. All I can say is that I am caught up writing four fanfictions for four different fandoms (which you should check out if you get the chance) as well as an original work "After Crashing". If you'd like to read the latter, please drop me a pm and I'd be delighted to send you it.**

**On a side note, I'm not a happy person because two days ago I was in a small car accident and now am suffering from whiplash. My neck hurts, and I'm cranky. Reviews make me feel better?**

**Oh, and the next chapter will jump back to a week before the time skip. Until next time...**


	8. Heart in My Hands

**I hold my heart in my hands**  
**Knowing I don't have much time**  
**But I know you can see me**  
**So if you could just give me a sign**

**I know I'm a sinner**  
**I know I've done wrong**  
**But tell me you've watched me**  
**That you've known all along**

**I'm the kind that make angels cry**  
**The one that used to cling to innocence**  
**But now my only hope left**  
**Is that they accept my repentance**

**A Week Earlier**

The Monday after Remy's double date with Cameron and Chase started much too early. The internist had to have a double coffee morning just to be aware enough to make it through the PPTH doors.

"Good morning, Thirteen," Kutner greeted her with a bright smile. Sometimes Remy wondered if he was self-caffeinated. He never seemed to lose his bright demeanor, even when faced with tragic cases or pulling an all-nighter to run tests.

"Hey, Kutner," Remy replied groggily. She never could seem to make it to work without being tired.

The team got there, as always, several minutes before House. By the time the scruffy man finally arrived, Taub was halfway done his crossword puzzle.

"Case?" Foreman asked. It irritated Remy that he couldn't even be bothered to use enough words to form a sentence.

"Closed?" House responded. Foreman just blinked at him. "Well, you should know by going to fancy doctor school that a sentence requires a subject and a verb. You, on the other hand, only managed to devote one of your precious words to me. And I really wanted to say 'case closed' but didn't want to actually have to finish a case before that happened."

"Does that mean we _don't_ have a case?" Kutner asked for clarification. House shrugged.

"I haven't checked to see if Cuddy held up her promise yet," House said. He turned away from them and into his office, turning on the television, presumably to check if HBO was available.

For the next ten minutes, they waited to see if House would come back with news about the television, but that was a negative. Remy assumed that he probably had indeed secured HBO from his deal with Cuddy and was now watching it instead of reporting the news.

"Alright, I'll be in the ER. Page me if we actually need to do our jobs," Remy announced. Taub and Kutner nodded and Foreman followed her out of the diagnostics room.

"What?" Remy asked Foreman.

"I just wanted to follow up with you. It's been a little while since, you know, you-"

"Almost died? Look, I get that a near-death experience can sometimes change your outlook on life, but it didn't change the fact that I like to keep my personal life, you know, _personal_," Remy said harshly. Foreman had been the worst offender in terms of the looks of concern and pity, and he hadn't let up yet. It was starting to get really obnoxious. It was time to nip this one in the bud.

Foreman held his hands up in surrender. "Fine. I guess you don't need me."

"You're right, I don't," Remy said succinctly, clipping her heels off toward the ER, leaving Foreman standing outside of diagnostics with that disapproving expression of his.

When Remy got down to the ER, she found Cameron's office without difficulty and jiggled the door handle, finding it locked. She frowned at it before pulling out a bobby pin and inserting it into the lock, easily picking the lock. Once inside the office, she closed the door behind her and sat on the couch situated in there. Since she was so tired and Cameron clearly wasn't in the office, it couldn't hurt to recline and take a short nap.

She fell asleep thinking that the couch smelled vaguely of Cameron.

* * *

Remy woke up to a surprised squeal and tried to jump to a sitting position, only she ended up on the floor with a thud.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Cameron asked, rushing to Remy's side. The brunette sat up, holding the back of her head where she'd hit the ground.

"Yeah, I'm fine, you just sorta scared me awake," the internist muttered. She took a read of her body- the damage seemed to be minimal. Probably a headache and a sore butt.

"_I_ scared _you_? How did you even get into my office? It was locked!" Cameron exclaimed, not in anger, but more in surprise.

Remy held up the bobby pin. "Seriously? It's not like this place is Fort Knox."

"I guess you're right, but I still wasn't expecting you. What are you doing in here anyway? Don't you have a case or some extra cable channels to procure?" Cameron asked, offering her hand to help Remy up. The latter couldn't help but register the small thrill she felt at the small amount of skin contact with the blonde.

"Actually, no. House has won the Great Cable War against Cuddy and is currently enjoying the spoils of war," Remy said drily.

"He'll never grow up, will he?" Cameron sighed.

"I hope not. That might mean I'd actually start having to do my job," Remy said seriously before breaking into a smile.

"Well, come on, I can put you to work any day," Cameron teased, slapping Remy on the butt with a file in her hand as the two of them walked out of her office. Remy jumped a little at the playful contact but kept calm, knowing that Cameron surely meant the gesture as friendly. Like guys playing football.

Sure enough, Cameron did put her to work, giving her case after case in the ER until it was time for Remy to clock out and go home.

* * *

By the time Wednesday rolled around, Remy was feeling fairly good again. She and Cameron were talking frequently and without the involvement of Chase. House had returned, though unwilling, to handling an actual case that involved the whole team.

Wednesday night, Remy was running some tests on her own blood. It was with shaking hands that she read the negative results. No, no, no, not when she was finally gaining stability in her life. She didn't even care about the specifics of the test- she just knew that they didn't come out like she was hoping, so she dropped the vial of bloodwork in her hands and ran out of the hospital as fast as she could.

Remy's weakness had rarely been fear. She'd grown up in fear, been cultivated by it. Fear was her second mother for when her natural mother took a leave of absence from her mind, and she was left with the cruel nanny that was fear. She was constantly afraid when her mom would have a fit, when her hands would shake badly even as one of those hands would come down on a small Remy. And her father would cry in the corner, just as afraid as the small child he'd helped create with the women they now both were growing to fear.

And then Remy had found out that she would end up just like the woman part of her had grown to despise despite her strong love for the woman. She had broken down repetitively and drowned herself in anything strong enough to make her forget- pain, drugs, alcohol, sex, anything.

But then she'd ended up in the hospital- _her_ hospital- and she had realized that something was going wrong. Adrianne's previously ignored words had never seemed truer, and she set her path straight, well, more straight than it had been.

Cameron had been a large part of that. Remy couldn't remember having a real friend like that since she was in school. Adrianne was good to her, good for her, but their relationship was primarily based on therapy, not on social outings or mindless banter and chatting. It was nice to have someone like that.

But now, right when she had been trying to get back on track, her own blood called out to mock her. Remy found her eyes streaming tears of rebellion as if they could wash her blood clean of the illness that marred it. The fear was seeping out of her and she could do nothing to stop it. She was less than average again, a soon-to-be statistics on children of people with Huntington's. She knew the suicide rate was quite high, and she was considering joining that statistic as well.

She ran to her car and she drove, not knowing where to go. She couldn't go home because home was lonely and loneliness would mean more of the fear and she hated the fear.

So she drove to Cameron's house, not even knowing what she would say or do once she got there. She just drove and focused on not killing herself along the way via careless driving.

She parked in front of Cameron's apartment and slammed her car door, wondering idly if Cameron could hear the noise from her second floor apartment. Remy walked onward, finding herself knocking at Cameron's door in a blink of an eye.

When Cameron opened the door, she immediately gathered up Remy in her arms, pulling her inside. Remy clung to the woman awkwardly, just wanting something to keep her grounded in this life so she wouldn't float up to heaven. Or fall with her consistent gravity down to hell.

Cameron whispered words of comfort in Remy's ears, but she didn't really listen to the meaning of the words; she focused on the sensation of breath on her ear and arms around her waist and the fact that she was being lowered onto a couch with hands still on her.

Remy pulled back to stare Allison in the eyes, noticing not for the first time how beautiful a color they were.

"Remy… what happened to you?" Allison asked brokenly. She had tears in her eyes as well. She always was the compassionate one. Remy noticed the fact that she only thought of the woman as Allison when it was something personal between the two of them. It was something special and different.

"I… was born wrong," Remy spluttered out, unsure of what else to say. Allison hugged her tighter, winding a hand through her long brown hair.

"Oh sweetie, no you weren't," Allison whispered as comfort. That only made Remy cry all the harder.

Remy felt the pain of her life settling on her, but she tried to brush it away with the feeling of the other woman pressed against her, with the smell of her hair, with any sensation she could garner that was purely Allison Cameron and not anything to do with sickness or brokenness.

Allison looked her in the eyes and they stayed locked like that for a moment until Remy leaned closer, trying to see if being closer to her made the pain subside at all. Allison looked at her with confusion and then Remy did it.

She leaned in to kiss Allison.

**Two days later…**

Who the fuck wants to die alone?

Remy just laughed, feeling everything in the world washing over her. She stood at the top of a mountain, or the closest thing to a mountain she could find within three hours of the hospital. She hadn't been to work since Wednesday. She wasn't ever going back- she had decided that after she'd ruined the one last shining part of her life.

Everything was fading like coming down from a high, and she had to keep that high going. That high was her set of wings to keep her flying high above the earth, to keep her close to heaven when she feared plummeting to hell.

Remy had been afraid of heights as a child. She supposed many kids are. When you look down from being up high, you suddenly realize how easy it would be to fall. Even as a kid you know what happens to things that fall- they break.

There was a metaphor in there, she knew it, but that didn't much matter right now. Not much did. The drugs were addling her brain in the most pleasant of ways and the heights were playing tricks on her adrenaline. Her car was parked somewhere farther down and her heart had already taken the plunge down the mountain. Yes, she would call it a mountain for the metaphor. The metaphor that didn't matter.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, noticing the twelve missed calls. The most recent was from Adrianne, but maybe some of the others had been Cameron. Remy didn't check. That would only hurt her one way or another.

Instead she pulled back her arm and threw her phone as far as possible, watching it sail through the air and cascade down toward earth where it shattered fantastically. Goodbye connection to the outside world.

If she could throw her phone off the mountain, the thing that connected her to anyone who mattered and her life, surely she could throw herself off too. It wouldn't be that hard. Just get close to the edge and take a step as if there would be a place for her foot to land when in reality it would be her body crumpling to the hard earth below.

But she didn't. She stayed rooted to the spot not terribly close to the edge. Something was stopping her- a voice in her head. She wondered if it was from the drugs she'd taken. The voice in her head sounded disturbingly like a nagging Adrianne.

"Shut up, head-Adrianne," Remy muttered to her head. She didn't like head-Adrianne very much because she was telling Remy to get back in her car and drive back to Princeton Plainsboro.

Dumb idea.

So Remy took a tentative step closer to the edge, pushing head-Adrianne away, and more importantly, any thoughts of Allison Cameron away. Those two girls would do Remy no good anymore.

"Catch me if you can," Remy whispered, not quite knowing who she was talking to. It was decision time. Could she let herself fall?

Remy always made the harder choice.

**A/N: Wow it's been like... more than half a year since I last updated so I have no idea if anyone will even come by to read this. If you do, I have no idea how to thank you for doing so. I abandoned this story because I couldn't deal with the less than happy parts that I was coming up to in this story. College and all that. But now I'm at a better point in my life. I plan on finishing this now. There's a couple of chapters left. I also plan on finishing "Hunger Within" and "Liar Extraordinaire", my Glee (Faberry) and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Faith/Buffy) stories respectively.**

**I'm very sorry for not updating. I have no excuses. That is all. Thanks for reading.**


	9. Waking in Nightmares

**People always say the same things**

**About how you shouldn't be afraid to fall**  
**Love is worth it, they say to me**  
**But I'm not sure if that's true at all**

**Because I know what falling means-**  
**It wakes me up from all of my dreams**

* * *

_The harder choice_… Remy's left foot stepped off the edge, dangling in midair. A light breeze made her position feel all the more precarious. The wind was a reminder that nature had the power here, if only she'd let it take hold of her and bring her crashing into itself. She would probably die on impact. There would be a brief moment where she'd fly, becoming one with the wind, and then the air would dispose of her, giving way to the hard and cold ground below.

Remy swallowed, wondering how many heartbeats she had left. Ten? Twenty? How many more times would she exhale? And then her mind travelled farther down the line, to after her moment of finality- who would find her dead body? Who would show up at her funeral?

And her mind snapped to her mother, her funeral. Remy remembered harsh whispers of how she should have just taken the easy way out and killed herself early on in the prognosis so that her family wouldn't have had to suffer. That her child wouldn't watch her suffer.

Remy's teeth gritted at the thought. So killing herself would have been the easy way out, to avoid pain. One thing Remy often avoided was pain because it was easier that way. It was easier to distance herself so she wouldn't feel the pain of other people caring about her when she was just a ticking time bomb.

So Remy made the hardest decision of her life and moved her foot.

**One Day Earlier…**

Remy was in a haze of drugs, alcohol, and sex. She'd fucked some random blonde girl out in her car outside of the club she was at and left as soon as they were finished. But the girl didn't taste like Alison. No, she was a cheap imitation and Remy didn't want the reminder of the woman if it wasn't going to be satisfying. So instead she switched her approach, focusing on a tall man with dark hair, someone the exact opposite of Alison.

She found him at the bar and slid a hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder. He turned with a small amount of surprise that quickly settled into a cocky smile once he realized who had touched him.

"Well hello there, beautiful," he greeted, his eyes dragging up Remy's frame. She didn't care about his compliment, but she smiled anyway, a sultry smile that she really hoped came across as such and not just the smile of a doped up whore. Then again, it would be fitting, she thought harshly.

"Buy me a drink," she said simply. The man's smirk only deepened and he called out for a drink name that Remy couldn't distinguish over the other sounds in the club.

"So what's your name, beautiful?" he asked in fairly controlled speech comparatively. Remy was pretty far gone herself.

"Sarah," Remy responded, slamming down a huge gulp of the drink the man bought her. She wasn't in the mood to have a conversation about her "original" name. That would lead to asking where it came from, which led back to her mother eventually. And tonight wasn't about mommy issues. It was about relationship issues.

"Pretty name," he complimented politely. Remy snorted and his eyebrows rose. "What?"

"No it's not," Remy replied with a shrug. "You could probably find seven other Sarah's at this bar right now." She wasn't in the mood for verbal bullshit, just the emotional kind.

The guy laughed in surprised. "Fair enough. My name's Trent, so I don't usually have the same problem. But Sarah, what do you say we head to a place where you're the only Sarah around?"

It wasn't the smoothest line Remy had ever heard by far, but it's intention was exactly what she was looking for. She took his hand and followed him out to his car. She wondered briefly if he was terribly inebriated or if that was just her. Maybe if she was lucky they'd get into a car crash and this terrible week would be over. Within minutes, Remy was slamming Trent against the inside of his front door, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. With any luck, there wouldn't be.

She didn't waste much time with foreplay, just getting him naked as fast as possible. She was almost repulsed with herself for how clinical she was being with this whole experience- finding someone who met the exact opposite criteria as Allison, let him buy her a drink, let him use a line or two, let him take her home, subtract his clothes. It was dirty and low, but that was exactly what she was used to.

Trent wasn't keeping it a secret how much he was enjoying this, but Remy just didn't have the motivation to express the same. She wasn't enjoying this; she was numbing herself to life. She stayed silent as he led her back toward his bedroom, pushed her down onto the bed and muttered something about how he was going to make her feel real good. She didn't reply with anything but pulling him more on top of her.

The more of him that she touched, tasted, smelled, the less she thought of Allison. He was rough and tasted like alcohol and smelled similarly mixed with the distinct musk of man. Allison was soft and tasted like coffee and smelled like vanilla.

Trent grunted as he pushed into her, getting louder by the moment. Remy just sighed as the numbness overtook her body. Trent must have taken it as a sigh of pleasure because he only pressed into her faster. In a matter of minutes, it was over and Trent had passed out cold next to her.

Remy stood up and gathered her clothes, not wanting to make a big deal about anything, but the edge was starting to come back. She stumbled out of Trent's house and looked around, thankfully recognizing the area she was in. It wasn't the classiest section of town, and that was exactly why she recognized it. If she was up for it, she could get some fairly affordable hash two blocks down to the left, but she wasn't in the mood. She wanted to… well, honestly, her feelings were exhaustion and nausea primarily.

She clung to walls of apartments and closed stores as she made her way down the street, trying to get back to her place. It shouldn't take too long. She'd walked to the bar so that she wouldn't have to go far to walk home when she got really drunk and couldn't drive. It was becoming increasingly difficult to drive as her stomach turned over and over again. Finally she keeled over and vomited in the street. A car passing by had to swerve around her to avoid a messy accident, but Remy was really starting to wish it hadn't.

Remy's head was spinning now, dehydration kicking in. The dizziness only made her more nauseous and she felt her stomach turning inside out once again, forcing the remnants of her stomach to make an appearance once again. She couldn't stop it. After throwing up four times in a row, Remy was finally able to pull herself away from the street and crawl back on the sidewalk where she sat leaning against a shop front. It was a bike shop. She wondered vaguely if it was illegal to ride a bike while drunk.

Now that her body had rejected a good bit of the alcohol in her system, her head was clearing in a painful and dizzying way. Allison's face swam into focus in her mind's eye and she cursed aloud.

Remy had known that it would be a bad idea to get attached to someone, and she had apparently been right. She had gone and messed up her friendship by throwing unwanted romantic feelings into the mix. It was just karma biting her in ass, she supposed, after all those years of shutting people out harshly and turning instead to less savory friends of alcohol and the man or woman of the night.

"Why?" Remy whimpered. It hit her how pathetic she was right now, drunk and alone and disheveled after leaving a guy's house she knew nothing about just to get over a girl who had never expressed any interest in her. This was low. Sure, she'd been in places similar to this before, but the reasons had been different. Memories of her mom dying. Fights with her dad. Fear of dying just like her mom. Receiving a diagnosis that mirrored her mother's exactly. Those problems were all inevitable and depressing and real. But tonight? Girl problems? She'd never cared enough before to go this low over a girl.

Remy couldn't do this much longer. Her brain was whirling out of control and she slipped away, passing out against the bike shop that she'd never been to before.

**A Few Hours Later…**

When Remy came to, life hit her in the face like a brick. She remembered her situation perfectly and couldn't handle at all now that her drunken stupor had worn off leaving behind only an enormous pounding headache and dizziness from dehydration.

She walked the rest of the way back to her car and got in, putting her vehicle in drive. She didn't know where she was driving, but dawn had come and her life still was in hell. She had hit rock bottom.

Upon checking her phone quickly at a stoplight, Remy realized that she'd missed calls from Allison. The sight made her blood run cold. For a moment she allowed herself to think that perhaps Allison was calling her to reconcile, to tell Remy that she actually enjoyed the kiss and wanted to be with her. But then the daydream shattered and Remy was left with broken shards.

Remy sped as soon as the light turned green and found a destination- hell. She couldn't live like this anymore. Hell had been whispering in her ear since she was eight years old, and maybe it was about time to answer it's call.

**Present…**

Her feet moved away from the edge and she stared down at where she'd been about to fling herself. It didn't look like death, but she knew it easily would have taken her life. Easily. The harder choice was always to live.

Remy drove until she reached a nearby payphone. She was surprised that the things even still existed considering how most of America had cell phones these days, but she dug a couple quarters out of her pocket anyway and dialed.

"Hello?" the other end answered.

"I need help. That place you talked about?" Remy said from a dry throat that made her voice crack. There was a brief moment of silence.

"Okay. I'll make the call."

**A/N: Again, huge delay and a short chapter, but I had to put up something soon so you'd know I hadn't abandoned this. I haven't been writing because writing this story (and others) were my way of coping with my own sexuality. Two months ago as of tomorrow, I started a relationship with my girlfriend. I'm resuming writing this because now I'm home from college and forced back in the closet and my girlfriend lives two hours away. So, hello coping.**

**Hope you're all doing well. I also hope I'll be updating soon with who Remy called and about what. And how this all relates to her relationship with Allison.**


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